


And call me the tumblin’ dice.

by neverending_shenanigans



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternative Universe - American Horror Story : Murderhouse, Attempt at Humor, Britney Spears - Freeform, Crossover, Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, Darcy is Rick Castle's Daughter, F/M, SHIP DARCY WITH ALL THE THINGS, Song Lyrics, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Thor: The Dark World Spoilers, Tumblr Prompt, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2372921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverending_shenanigans/pseuds/neverending_shenanigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Title from The Rolling Stone’s Tumbling Dice)</p><p>A collection of small and big things written off of tumblr prompts or for people on tumbler.<br/>My inbox is always open for all shenanigans, so, feel free to drop by.<br/>Recently added: The various things i write for 'darcy lewis crossover bingo' will be posted here until April.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The devil’s cup (Loki-on-earth!AU)

**Chapter 1: The devil’s cup**

 

There was a time and a place for everything in life. And usually, when someone brought up that sentence, it meant that Darcy had proven again what a horrible timing she had. This time, it wasn’t just her, though, who showed an admirable lack of proper timing.

Ever since Thor had come for Jane, after the Aether had been extracted, and he had had his brother in tow, their little place in London had just become that much more unbearably stuffed.

Darcy had shoved Ian out of the picture pretty quickly, when Thor had asked them to please allow him to keep his dip-shit-crazy brother around. Ian had had enough of the crazy with the Dark Elves, he didn’t need to get involved with this particular brand of evil and crazy.

In fact, Darcy wasn’t sure if she herself needed this kind of evil and crazy in her life. What were her options, though? Thor was willing to defy his father on this, and he would not send Loki back into the cell. Not after what he had done, almost dying to protect Jane and Thor. So, yeah. Jane might have stared at Loki with an intensity that could have melted a hole into his forehead, but of cause she had been bound to give in. And Darcy?

She had left. The place had been barely big enough for her and Jane, with Thor around it would have been already too much. But there was a whole different bubble of personal space needed for that batshit crazy wannabe king. And, frankly, Darcy still had trouble _believing_ that the same guy who had sent a Robot to kill his brother, who had set an alien Army loose on earth, who had expressed very loudly and publicly that he wanted this pathetic human race to kneel in front of him in fear, would now just suddenly see the error in his ways and seek redemption.

Though redemption had not ever even been mentioned. Hell, Darcy wasn’t sure if Loki even wanted to be here. If he even saw error in what he had done.

She had not seen him doing anything vile so far, but she had also not seen him saving Thor or Jane, either. So she had opted for backing out of this, quickly. Living in Loki’s bubble of personal space was not her idea of comfortable living. She had rented an one-room-apartment that was pretty much a joke but all she could afford, and she was sure that she would be still more comfortable there.

And when she wasn’t in that joke of a room, she just came to Jane’s lab and her former apartment for work, and otherwise occupied a cool little coffeeshop, that she had found fleeing from the apartment the first day that Thor had popped up with Loki. It wasn’t far away from her former apartment, so she could be at the place in less than five minutes when Jane needed her. Though Jane was occupied with Thor anyhow. Darcy wasn’t missed too sorely or too often.

Yet, Darcy knew that sooner or later she would have to find a way to deal with the elephant now-living-in-what-had-been-her room. She didn’t want to stop working for Jane. She had felt like she had actually done something useful in the past year, and that was a nice feeling. If she didn’t want to back out of Jane’s life and this job forever, she would sooner or later have to start coming over and interact with him. Or, at the very least, stop silently sneaking in and trying to subtly leave the room Loki was in.

And when this morning Jane had sent her a text that she had spent the night in the lab, asking Darcy to go to her apartment and grab that super-important folder before coming to work, Darcy had braced herself. This was the time and place to march to that lab, like New Mexico, New York or Germany had never happened, fully prepared to maybe even greet Mr. Adopted. Not actually talk to him, but to acknowledge his presence would be a good start.

So she had put on her big-girl panties and her headphones, and had put her guilty-pleasure power-woman playlist on. Ida Maria, Joan Jett and the like usually gave her the right attitude to approach things head on. That playlist she had kept around since high school, when she had still been an awkward teenager and needed a musical pat on the back. It spoke volumes that she felt like she needed that now again.

But yeah. It still worked like a charm. She could totally do this. She could greet the guy that had tried to enslave mankind and been to blame for so many deaths. She could greet him with a nod and without obvious hostility. She could give him the benefit of not-doubt-(because-there-was-no-doubt-that-he-was-megalomaniac-)but-reservation.

Darcy had kept her key for the apartment, so she never had to ring if Jane had a midnight-breakthrough in science and needed Darcy to come over immediately. Maybe she should have rung, though. The thought had just not to come to her.

“Bad Reputation” by Joan Jett had been on, and she had been hearing it pretty loudly, humming along when she had headed straight for the kitchen, brewing up some coffee, not bothering to call out a “good morning” into the probably dead flat.

It was 7 am on a Wednesday morning. Jane’s text said she was already in the lab, and Thor usually accompanied her – which meant that Loki was there, too, by default, as even Thor kept a close watch on his brother.

She had just wanted to fill her plastic cup with coffee and grab a lipstick that she had left with Jane, grab the folder from the kitchen table and then she would be on her way to the lab. In her mind she had being going over the possible things she could say to the Evil Mastermind to show her good will for Thor and Jane, if she made it through the greeting bit. ‘ _How’s the World Domination Plan B coming along?_ ’ A bit too straightforward and to hostile. But: working on it.

She hadn’t heard someone being in the flat, thanks to Joan Jett, and the door had not been entirely closed, so when Darcy left the kitchen, heading to the bathroom, mulling over possible _polite_ topics of conversation with a villainous alien-prince in her head, she was not prepared for the sight that would greet _her._

Loki stood in front of the sink, one hand outstretched into the small cabinet behind the mirror, the other holding the door open. His head turned slowly in her direction, as if he didn’t particularly care that she was there, his expression unreadable, blank, bored. As if he didn’t particularly _care_ that she stood there, _staring_ at him like a deer in the head light. Staring at his naked chest. Naked legs. Naked everything, aside from a yellow towel wrapped loosely - and _lowly_ \- around his hips.

A towel with red roses stitched on the corner in a corny manner, which she knew all to well, because it had been her towel once and she had stitched them there. And it had been her favourite towel because of the corny Shakespeare quote stitched on it left of the rose.

Her eyes snapped from his chest – _lean, subtle muscles, pale skin with a really unnatural and almost sikish quality, damp -_ to the towel, to the red letters going from his hip to his right tight. _“Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it.”_ One of her favourite quotes from Macbeth; and she had stitched it on this towel in High School, in a project. She could weep at the irony of him wearing this now, honestly.

As if on cue, Joen Jett fell silent in her ears, the song being over, and in the moment of silence that followed Darcy looked up from the towel again. She could hear herself swallowing. Loki lowered his arm, still staring at her, bored, but seemingly waiting for something.

Now. How to greet a half-naked villain in your boss lady’s bathroom? She had imagined that bit to go down differently.

She opened her mouth, he raised one eyebrow at her, and a drip of water fell from one of his darks locks into the sink. Audibly. Her mouth fell shut again, her gaze sidestepping between all the places she shouldn’t be looking, but were just to much… there, to ignore. Chest. Throat. Fascinating scar on his hip. Navel, with a drop of water running towards the towel. Nope. Straight back up to his hair.

He was good looking. It gave her ugly little cramps in her mind to even think that, but it was true. He was handsome, even if she had found him significantly less attractive on the news, fifty shades of crazy with daddy-issues, bringing destruction down on Manhattan.

But. Yeah. Standing in her former bathroom, stripped not only of clothes but also of all the crazy and the leather and the armour and the pointy staff? He had charisma, that was something no one could really deny. She had just not been aware that even his hair, now in an unruly and pretty long eighties-rockstar-fashion, had charisma. Hell, even the perfectly manicured nail on his pinky finger on the bathroom cabinet door had charisma.

Darcy made a step backwards, raising one hand in a gesture of “please don’t kill me”, her mouth falling open to bubble out some apology before retreating from the room, from the apartment,… when the silence was filled with music.

What the…? It took her a couple of seconds to register that she still had her headphones on and the next song had started playing.

The fact that she didn’t immediately recognize the song said a lot about how distracted she was by the almost-naked Loki standing just a bit more than one arm length away from her.

Yet again, Darcy froze, when Britney Fucking Spears started singing that one guilty pleasure song of Darcy’s. And Britney was singing enthusiastically, with just a hint of seductive, in the same loudness that Joan Jett had been roaring before. Loud enough for Loki to hear her. Thanks to the poor quality of Darcy’s big headphones and their lack of isolation.

_“Baby, can’t you see, I’m calling? A guy like you should wear a warning. It’s dangerous;  
I’m fallin’.”_

Darcys mouth fell shut again. She was almost thankful to be able to tear her gaze from the entirely too tempting looking villain in her former bathroom in a way-too-naked state of undress. In her favourite towel. She looked down at her pocket, with justified incredulity. She tried to pull her iPod from the pocket of her tight jeans, but the thing was pushed in an awkward angle, and the cables had become entangled in her scarf.

_“There’s no escape, I can’t wait. I need a hit. Baby, give me it. You’re dangerous, I’m lovin’ it.“_

Why couldn’t the ground open up and swallow her now. And why couldn’t this have been some less embarrassing and suggestive song? Why couldn’t it have been… Christina Aguilera’s Fighter? Still old and cheesy, but so damn innocent compared to ‘Toxic’. God, what did she even have on this on her playlist?

“Fuck me. Just great.” Darcy cursed, as she finally managed to get that sneaky, traitor iPod out of her pocket. She pushed the headphones down, just when Britney reached her ‘thrilling’ chorus, fumbling with the cables and the keylock. “Just a sec.” The button to push had been broken for a while, but that had never been as horrible as it felt now.

_“With a taste of your lips I’m on a ride.”_ Oh hell. She did not just glance at his lips. _“You're toxic; I'm slipping under. With a taste of a poison paradise.”_ The air in this room was too hot. Too thick. She needed to get out. Goddamn, stupid keylock _.” I’m addicted to you, don’t you know that you’re toxic? And I love what you do, don’t you know that you’re toxic?”_

“Ha!” Darcy exclaimed triumphantly, as she managed to push the button in just the right angle, and then pause the song. She looked up, and then she remembered what had been before Britney: Awkward silence.

Loki still had his one eyebrow raised. His gaze was lowered to her iPod, but now it flickered up, to her face, and then the headphones. Just, very subtly, his posture shifted, his head tilted a bit. The hair that had formerly been pushed back on his right side now spilled over his shoulder, and some more drops of water fell into the sink.

Darcy raised her empty hand again, as Loki let go of the cabinet door, and his gaze finally settled on her face. Before she knew it she was forcing a really awkward smile on her face. Since when had Loki such weird eyes? They weren’t exactly green or blue. And, more importantly, why did she think that noteworthy now?

“Err. Sorry. Leaving you to your thing now.” She made a step backwards. Shaking her hand in a weak wave. Waving seemed weird. She turn her hand into a fist. Loki didn’t seem bored. He seemed contemplating. That couldn’t be a good thing. “Have fun. Or. Whatever. Carry on.” Or. Oh god. That wasn’t contemplating. He seemed intruiged. _Interested._ Her thumb popped up from the fist, she pointed over her shoulder, making another step backwards. She was out in the hallway. “I’ll be … gone.” Just one more step and she could push the door close.

She was turned halfway, when Loki spoke up. His voice wasn’t particularly loud, and tone of his voice indicated only a moderate interest. No particular murder intend. But it seemed to cut through the silence and the tension in the room like a hot knife through butter. Her knees felt like butter.

“Your midgardian device is used to accumulate and play music.”

Darcy turned her head, looking at him, barely able to keep from squinting at him and making a grimace. What the hell? Was that a question? Was she supposed to answer that? Her iPod had not been on her mental list of topics for conversation.

Why was he even talking to her? She was one particular _inferior_ human. He probably should be glad if she left now. Hell. She did not want to be talking to him. Sadly for her, she usually talked a lot when she felt embarrassed or awkward. She replied before she could remind her mouth to stay shut.

“Yes. That’s an iPod. Though that’s only the name of that brand. It’s an MP3 Player. MP3 is the music, it means … I don’t know what it means, actually. But it basically says that the audio is digital and compresses, so not really here and small. That’s why I can have several hundreds of different songs on this tiny piece of tech.” He looked at her, and then at the iPod, still in her hand.

Naturally, she kept on rambling, as if her life depended on it. Just fucking great. “I really wonder now what MP3 means. I do remember from my music class that it was invented in Germany.” And, err. Not a good country to mention around that person. Alien-prince. Megalomaniac. Who made people in Germany kneel, fully prepared to kill them if they disobeyed. At least that thought broke through her inner awkwardness, and she managed to shut her mouth.

It was also what made her go perfectly still when, in one smooth motion, Loki turned, walking towards her, nullifying her previous attempts at fleeing and putting space between them. Again, his gaze flickered between the iPod, her earphones and her eyes.

Darcy decidedly focused on the wonderful pattern on the shower curtain that she had graciously allowed Jane to keep. It had minions all over them. Perfectly fitting for a villain to shower in. Aww, hell.

“The technology seems archaic, but what you call music is curious. Please demonstrate, again… Miss Lewis.”

Okay, now she had to look at him, and she really had the urge to turn and run. Him calling her ‘Miss Lewis’ was all kinds of wrong. And she wasn’t sure if she was pleased that an alien-princeling with megalomaniac streaks had bothered to remember her name, or if she should be really worried about that fact.

The circumstances of him, standing in her Shakespear-towel in Jane’s bathroom, inquiring about Britney Spears, was just too absurd to take this situation serious. Clearly this was doomed. She could not come sane out of this encounter. She should have known better than to think she could handle this. Tomorrow she would hand in her resignation letter.

For now, Darcy shook her head a bit, then she let her breath escape in a desperate huff, and her shoulder sagged. She raised the hand with the iPod, resigned to her fate. “Don’t call me Miss Lewis. For you it’s... “ she paused, struggled, and started again. “Just don’t call me Miss Lewis. I only ever got called that by teachers and professors, and most especially if I did something wrong. So. You can call me Darcy, if you must, and I’ll call you… You know what? I won’t call you anything. I think we’re better off not talking to each other. Worked fabulous so far. Really. Let’s not give up on that ‘not talking’ bit, okay?”

Her voice had certainly reached a weird pitch of ‘screw you’ and ‘screw this’ and ‘what the hell am I doing’. It was a mixture of hysteria and resignation.

Oh hell. Was that a smile on his face? No, not really a smile. The corners of his mouth seemed upturned, and he did seem amused, but it wasn’t exactly in a happy manner. “Oh, please. Our conversation so far seems to be most _inspiring_.” Yep, that was sarcasm if she ever heard it. “Call me as you like. Now, if you would, then… _Dar-cy_?”

She didn’t like the way he pronounced her name at all. His accent was different from Thor’s, it reminded her so of Ian’s accent from time to time. Only that it had seemed quaint and cute with Ian. With him it was… different. It made his every word sound haughty, proud and rolling of the tip of his tongue like molten silver. Look like the flower, but be the serpent? Yeah, quite like a serpent.

Wordlessly, Darcy pushed the play button of her iPod. Britney continued as if nothing had happened, unaware of just how inappropriate she was right now.

_“It’s getting late to give you up. I took a sip from my devil's cup. Slowly, it’s taking over me.”_

She would delete this song from her iPod, first thing as soon as she got to the lab. Talking about that. If Loki was here, did that mean Thor was here, too? That was a bit of a relaxing thought. Right now, Loki’s intense gaze on her earphones around her neck made her all kinds of uncomfortable.

He was listening so intently to the lyrics. Britney Spears’ songs were not meant to be listened to in that way. Probably. Or maybe they had been, over a decade ago. God, that thought made her feel old.

_“Too high, can’t come down. It’s in the air and it’s all around. Can you feel me now?”_

Darcy felt like she couldn’t breath, as Loki’s gaze wandered up to her face again. He was still only in a damn towel. And she felt like her iPod wasn’t the only traitor here. She was lacking in self-controll, it would seem, but she was weirdly fixated on his cheekbones. Pretty cheekbones.

_“ With a taste of your lips I'm on a ride. You're toxic I'm slipping under. With a taste of a poison paradise. I’m addicted to you, don’t you know that you’re toxic? And I love what you do, don’t you know that you’re toxic?”_

To fixate on them allowed her to see the rest of his facial expression in her peripheral vision, too. The corners of his mouth – _soft lips, pale, slim and constantly on the verge of smirking_ \- twitched. He seemed well aware of what the song was about. Especially as Britney began a mixture of sighting and singing, in a high pitch.

And then he reached out. A part of Darcy’s brain screamed to move backwards, because that was the saftest thing to do if a crazy person reached out for the general direction of your throat – had Britney offended his precious ears with her suggestive song? – but apparently her brain had lost the connection to her feet. Or to the rest of her body. Darcy bit her tongue not to scream, and that was about the only reaction she managed.

_“…Taste of your lips I'm on a ride. You're toxic I'm slipping under.”_

But his fingers never connected with her skin, the pressure around her throat never came. Only the plastic of her earphones scraped against her neck as he lifted it off a bit, and he leaned in. He had his head slightly turned, and his nose was so close to hers that they could have touched if Darcy had inhaled particularly deeply. Good thing she had stopped breathing altogether. She would have choked on the air right now anyway.

The proximity, as he brought the speaker closer to his ear, was too much for her. Especially, as he angles his head just ever so slightly, his nose away from hers, but the breath from his slightly parted lips against hers, and the gaze of his weirdly coloured eyes burning into hers with an intensity that rivalled Janes.

Oh hell. Wait. Hadn’t he done mind control on Erik? How had he done that? Could he do mind control just by looking at people? Because her mind was completely blank and very weak right now.

_“Intoxicate me now, With your lovin' now, I think I'm ready now.”_

Toxic. Good god, the guy was toxic. And how cheesy of her to think that. She couldn’t possibly feel attracted to Loki. To the guy who wanted to destroy earth. Even if he seemed harmless and damn sexy right now. He. Was. Not. Focus, Darcy, Dammit!

_“Intoxicate me now, With your lovin' now, I think I'm ready now.”_

And then, the last screech on the violin-thing ended the song, and as if on cue, Darcy jerked backwards, stumbling a couple of steps. Her earphones gliding from his fingers and falling hard back against her collar bones. If he would be any other man… any one else…

“Awesome song, isn’t it? Good old Britney, rocking every little girl’s world. And super villains, too. Who would have thought. I’ll bring you the CD, you’ll love her, but I really gotta run now.” She hastily pocketed her iPod, and turned around, just barely able to keep from running away or throwing up, or reaching out to touch that collar bone. Confusing options.

“I shall look forward to it. Her music sounds _intoxicating._ ” Smug. He was smug about this. Darcy merely raised a hand to indicate that she had heard him. She was so proud that it wasn’t shaking. “Oh, and Darcy?” Great. She had the hand on the knob of the apartment door already, but she turned her head just enough to be able to look back over her shoulder.

He stood there, in his naked glory, in the doorway of the bathroom. Utterly relaxed, pleased. What did he have to be so pleased about? Asshole. She was tempted to give him the finger just for that facial expression. She would never be able to touch that towel again.

“I think I changed my mind. Call me Loki, if you would.”

Darcy knew she should answer, but all she did was to turn her head away, ripping open the door and to march out of the apartment, throwing the door close behind her.

And then she stood still on the stairs. She would bet she could hear someone laughing in her flat, and she was also almost sure she could hear Thor’s deep voice. Dammit. She had never gotten her Lipstick, or even her coffee or – damn – even Jane’s folder. But she wouldn’t go back in there. Nope. Not today, probably never again.

When Darcy reached Jane’s lab fifteen minutes later, having prepared a story for why she came without the folder, her boss-lady was too engrossed in her data to notice the missing thing. Honestly, Darcy almost forgot about the incident herself and she did forget her intention to resign.

Still. She did delete the song from her iPod. She couldn’t listen to it without treacherous thoughts. He had poisoned this song and her mind forever.


	2. This is the real deal (Castle!AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Darcy is Rick Castle's Daughter AU".
> 
> [There. That's all the chapter summary you'll get. I suck at chapter summaries]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit unfished, and it took me way too long to write even this. I apologize deeply.  
> And for those who know a bit about how police and secret agencies work and such... don't kill me. Because I don't know.

 

There were things about yourself, that you only found out about under duress. Darcy would gladly have gone without knowing those things about herself, truth be told. 

When SHIELD showed up to steal Jane’s work, Darcy found out she was a far better actor than she thought she had been, when she kept from shouting out that she knew those guys. 

When a robot attacks Puente Antigue, Darcy found out that she may be better with handling stressful situations that she thought she would be, though it remained unclear for her if she got that from her father or her mother. 

When Darcy jumped into an affair with Ian the Intern during the middle of an Dark Elves Invasion in London, it turned out that she surely had inherited her father’s woefully pathetic timing when it came to relationships. 

When Ian broke up with her, because she always kept him an arm length away, trying not to get involved in the crazy that was her life, it was pretty much proven that she sucked as hard as letting people in as her father did. 

When Darcy heard a shot fired in Jane’s lab in New York sixth months later, she found out that she had more of her mother in her than she thought. She found herself running to the lab after calling the police, and she didn’t break down when she found Liam the Lab Goon dead on the floor, staring at her with lifeless empty eyes, a pool of blood forming around his chest. 

Darcy was the one to call Jane, to make sure that she was okay, and that whoever had broken into the lab and attacked Liam had not gotten to her – whom he had probably been after. She had also call Thor on his mobile, ask him to come and bring… his friends. Or at least one of his friends. Someone?

 

She had waited for the hysteria to hit her, as she sat down crossed legged on the lab table opposite of Liam, staring down at him, fighting down the urge to cover him up. The hysteria never came. She had not known Liam for long, he had only started here a week ago, when Thor had arranged for Jane to have this lab after they had moved to New York nine days ago, so Jane could be closer to him. 

All she could do was silently look around the room. Breathing in, breathing out. The laptop displayed a red code, meaning someone had been trying to bypass her security, but had also failed. Most likely someone had been after Jane’s research and Liam and been unfortunate enough to be the only one in the lab on 1am on a Sunday morning. 

Liam, with his deep brown eyes, which were almost rolled back now, but which had been filled with laughter just an hour ago, as they had been watching “Up In The Air” together. Liam shouldn’t have been here. He wouldn’t have been here; if she hadn’t spontaneously decided that the two of them could maybe get to know each other, if they were to work closely. 

She had the place above the apartment, that she technically shared with Jane, but Jane stayed with Thor in the Avengers Tower more often than not. Darcy had been getting ready to sleep, and Liam and just wanted to check in here, because they had a program running, before heading home for the night.

 

The first police officers to arrive were regular police men, who had probably been close by. They started to “secure” the place, or something, and one of them asked her if she needed medical attention. No she didn’t. 

Then she was asked questions, about the “perpetrator”. Was he still close? Darcy guessed probably not, but she hadn’t seen him. She was asked to describe them what she had heard and how she had found the place, so she did that. 

Then a different officer came to her, saying that he would take her personal information until the Detectives of the “Criminal Investigation Division” would arrive. Darcy only staggered a bit, when they asked for her name.

 

When Darcy had applied for the Internship with Jane, she had applied with “Darcy Elizabeth Arwen Lewis”. That was not exactly her real name. But what was her real name, even? 

Darcy had been born to Allison Morgenstern at the age of twenty as Carolyn Darcy Morgenstern, and had had her name changed to Daria Stacy King before her third birthday, growing up mostly with her grandparents when her mother had been out on missions. 

Darcy she had spent a lot of time making up stories of who her father might be, during those years. Her mother had not had much to share of him, only telling her that she met him at a party in college and only remembered his forename. What she remembered she had shared: his love for books, his charming smile and expressive face, and that one of his favourite authors had been Carolyn Keene, whom Allison had named her daughter after. 

Only when Darcy had been around the age of thirteen had her mother finally gotten permission to inform her that the agency she was working for was called SHIELD, and that she was a special agent working for them. And she only told her that much, because she had now found out who her father was. 

She had only met her father at age thirteen, around the same time. Her father hadn’t known about her before, mostly because he also was not to know her mother’s current identity, but also because her mother had simply not remembered the full name of her college fling. 

Darcy had been to allowed to meet him, accompanied by her grandparents. Her father had been everything and nothing like the man she had imagined. He had been thirty-three at the time. He had had a nice smile, and he had been fun, but he also had been awkward and much more blunt and less fatherly than she had imagined him to be. He had been otherwise nice, though. 

They had kept contact, though only more or less close, and Darcy had met his wife and her grandmother. But there were no dreams of her parents possibly maybe finding back together, and marrying. Her mother tried her best to only be a peripheral figure in her fathers life. It was better for him if he didn’t recognize her as the girl she had been, by her mothers own words. 

And though Darcy and her father got along, she had preferred to stay with Grandpa and Grandma King when he had offered her his name and to come living with him, if awkwardly.

 

At age twenty, Darcy’s mother had had to go into hiding for SHIELD, and for the things she had done for them all those years. Darcy had wanted to tag along, but her mother wouldn’t have any of it. 

What her mother did, instead, was taking Darcy from everything she had known, as to not stay a target for the people hunting her. Not even SHIELD was to know where she was, or who Daria King would become. How she set it up she didn’t tell Darcy. She gave her a new life, and allowed her to chose her own name and where she wanted to go, and then she dropped from the planet of the earth. 

Daria King and Allison King officially moved to Europe, but Allison and Darcy Morgenstern simply were lost. 

Where her mother now was, or under what handle she went was unknown even to her. Her grandparents had become The Queens, an elderly couple somewhere in Washington. Darcy wasn’t to know where, and she wasn’t allowed to make contact. They all would have to stay separated for a while, at least. 

Carolyn Darcy Morgenstern aka Daria Stacy King had become Darcy Elizabeth Arwen Lewis. Student of Political Science at Culver, off to an internship with Dr. Jane Foster that had been secured for her by a bit of hacking that her mother had taught her. 

And then hell had broken loose, and her mother had been lost, and Darcy really wondered if the fake identity created for her would hold up against the critical view of the NYPD. 

She would hate to lose this life. She came to really like who she was now. That’s what her self-given name stood for, after all. _Darcy Elizabeth Arwen Lewis_ : ‘the real _DEAL_ ’. She had been so proud of that bit, as cheesy as it was.  

And she simply refused to give up the life as Jane’s assistant. Her mother had chosen to be constantly up about, to not have roots, or friends, or any real family ties. It had never been Darcy’s choice. Darcy wanted to finally get to keep people close.

 

Just when the young police officer named Nick Barclay was done with her personal information, which she had recited impeccably, a bit of a ruckus came out outside, and Darcy felt hot relief for the stiff coldness in her heart when Jane came rushing into the room, Thor, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark trailing behind her, swiftly ignoring the police officers that were warning them that they had to be removed. 

Though the warnings were a bit meek. People rarely tried to deny Captain America of something, that much Darcy had already noted, in the three times she had met the guy in the last nine days. Brief meetings, but yeah. It was obvious. 

Of Stark she had only heard so far, and not much, and mixed things. He was talking to one of the police officers with a half serious, half grinning expression. 

And then Jane reached her, holding her hands with her face. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? They wouldn’t tell us.” Darcy almost managed a smile. “I’m good. I wasn’t here, I came too late.” Then she gestured towards the computer that one of the police man was putting … ash over. Or something like that. “I think they were after your research. But the protection held.” At least she had some good news. 

Jane let go of Darcy’s face, turning to the computer, and promptly stomped over there to bark at the police people. Thor took Jane’s place in front of the table Darcy sat on, holding open his arms. Darcy leaned forward into the hug, and now she did manage a real smile. “I am glad to hear that you are well. We were worried. You showed bravery today.” His voice was lowered, but Darcy could hear the full worry in his voice that Jane usually managed to cover up by barking and anger. 

“I didn’t do anything.” She pulled back, and Thor let go of her again, though Darcy noted that he has subtly positioned himself in a way to block Liam from her view. She couldn’t help to feel thankful for that, even if the hysteria and the nausea have yet to set in.  

And then, for the second time that day, there were raised voices to be heard. A woman complained about “It’s your job to keep them out.” And then there was a lower, male voice to be heard, with an unrecognizable answer. Darcy leaned to her side a bit, to look past Thor, at the entrance to the lab.

 

A woman strode in, in a black coat, looking briefly at the corpse, then at the police officer arguing with Stark, the police officer guarding the corpse, and at the police officer talking to Jane and Captain America. 

And then the woman looked at her, and Thor, who are the only ones looking at her right now, and raised a badge. “Detective Kate Beckett. This is a restricted crime scene, and you gained access unpermitted. You will all have to accompany me. Who of you is the witness?” 

Darcy raised her hand. “Here.” 

Detective Beckett made her way towards her, as Darcy tried to remember why the name and the face seemed so familiar. Well, that is, until three more people came into the room, all in suits. And one of them spots Darcy pretty much straight away. “Darcy?” 

Darcy blinked. The man blinked. Kate Beckett stopped, looking at the man over her shoulder, then briefly at Darcy, sizing her up, and back at the man. “You know her?” Her voice is neutral, if maybe with a hint of annoyance. Darcy sighed, leaning forward, putting her face in her hands. 

“Yes. She is… she ….” He shuts his mouth, obviously completely lost at how to handle this. “She is my daughter and… shouldn’t you be … away? With your mother? They told me you’re in Europe.” So much for keeping her cover. Darcy raised her head, and tried a weak smile, a weak wave, trying to ignore everyone’s slightly confused expression. 

“Yeah, surprise. Hi Rick….sorry, _Dad_. Mum is still _away,_ but I’m kind of living here now.” She would make this work. Darcy Lewis had never talked to anyone about her father, so she could still try to incorporate that. But maybe, once this was through, she should clue Jane and Thor in. And possibly Stark, too, because Jane was working for him, and maybe he could help her with this. Hell, maybe he could help her find her mother. She was tired of having to pull through.  

The Detective turned her head towards Rick. “Daughter.” Darcy could see the facial muscles of the woman work, how she was visibly trying to keep control of her expression, carefully neutral, if maybe a bit… worried? Or angered. So much lied in one word. 

Darcy wished she knew what her father had told the woman. The last official story had been that Daria “Darcy” King had moved with her mother to Sweden, where her mother married an old friend from her college years in Sweden. 

However, the author had never made it publicly known that he had a second daughter named Daria King. If that woman was a close friend, he might have mentioned her, but he didn’t necessarily have to. And he never called her Daria. He had always called her Darcy. She could still be ‘his’ Darcy. She would just have to… give him the new and updated story. The only problem was to find out what his story was, so they could fuse. 

Darcy tried to get the answer from her father’s face. Her mother liked to say that their expressions and reactions were similar. For Darcy, her father was easier to read than that woman. He looked a bit helpless, and confused, and like he knew he was in deep shit. Not that helpful to guess how much that woman knew. 

Darcy uncrossed her legs, and Thor stepped aside, so she could slide of the table. Darcy didn’t miss a beat to jump in to help her father out of this. She remembered now, that he had started working with the police department, as an inspiration for his new book series, just when she had left for New Mexico. 

“Did you tell your friends at the police, Rick? Mum and I had a running bet. She bet that you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut, even though it was in the _terms_ you agreed on. I hope you didn’t tell too many people, I still would like a normal life. _I,_ for one, managed to keep it a secret from my friends.” Darcy kept her eyes fixed on the woman, as to not look at Liam on the floor, as she made her way over to where the woman was, so she could only point vaguely at the direction of where Jane, Cap and Tony were. 

Don’t look, she told herself, almost past Liam. She had managed well so far, just a bit longer. She had to protect this, protect herself. Protect “Darcy Lewis, Intern of Jane Foster”. SHIELD couldn’t do it, and her mother couldn’t do it. It was on her. And, maybe, her father. Depending on how well he worked with the police. She had to smoothly asses who she should bet on. And who to trust. 

Rick smiled, and Darcy could almost imagine how he would later praise her for how could she had grown to be in making up stories. Only he would be proud of his daughter lying like a stone cold ass in the face of a police officer. 

“You never trust me. Why do you never trust me? I didn’t tell anybody. I only told this wonderful woman here, Detective Beckett, that I have a second daughter that I don’t see much anymore these days. Help me Kate, will you?” The Detective turned, to look at Darcy, and again Darcy wished she could read her expression. She wasn’t smiling, and she was still seizing up Darcy, as she extended a hand.  

“I am sorry that we have to meet under such circumstances. It’s a pleasure to meet you…Darcy, was it?” 

“Yes, that’s right. And, yeah, circumstances suck, but thanks. Are you going to question me now?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, I feel so ashamed to even say this. This was a prompt last september (yes, september 2014, guys. Five months ago.) from an anon:
> 
> “au in which darcy is rick castle's daughter and the avengers find out when the nypd shows up after someone tried to kidnap jane. i voted for that on the crossover-week, but i think no-one else did. pretty please ?”
> 
> Thanks for the prompt anon, and sorry for have taken so long and now presenting you with this half-finished thing! .___.  
> I looked it up, out of curiosity, and only three people voted for a Castle-Crossover back then. I admit I only threw Castle on the List because I like to fangirl over Nathan Fillion, but I’m glad that it stuck with someone. I always like giving Darcy random family-relations to people, so this was actually very much my cup of tea. I have no idea why it took me so long. I started over twice, and was always kind of unhappy. So, I hope you’ll have fun with this, even if it strays a bit from your prompt and is only very short. I’m just not a good crime fiction writer, to be honest, and probably what i have here makes those who know shit about police procedure cringe already. Hence why I stoped. And I doubt I'll continue this.
> 
> As for background: In the episode "Suicide Squeeze" of Castle he mentions that in his first year at College he had met a girl at a party called Allison, whom he fell in love with. He spent years looking for her, before he met Kyra Blaine, and often wonders what became of her. Well. This is the story.
> 
> And for those wondering how I got the names:
> 
> Elizabeth for Elizabeth George, my favourite crime author;  
> Arwen because she bore the sobriquet "Evenstar", which is the opposite of Darcy’s born firstname Morgenstern (Morningstar) in this fiction;  
> Morgenstern because I just wanted an unusual but (to americans) foreign name that wouldn't stick in Castle's head;  
> And Carolyn after Carolyn Keene, who is Rick Castle’s favourite crime author.
> 
> Next up - yet another old prompt from september, for bval-1. Oh god. People. PEOPLE. I am so ashamed of myself.


	3. On my skin (soulmate!au)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soulmate!Au for the wonderful b-val, who gave me three guys played by chris evans and the task for fluff. (I tried) Prompt at the end of the story, for those of you who’d like to know what they’re getting theirselves into. 
> 
> Aside from that, let me warn you. It’s a bit longish an un-betaed, and open ended. There’s a reason why I started this thing over at least three times and while it took me since last September to write this. Sorry!

 

**On my skin**

 

 

_“Darce….?”_

_“Morning, sunshine! I made pancakes!”_

_“Yeah, I can see that. Just… I know I eat much, okay, but that’s…wow?”_

_“They’re not all for you, idiot. We’ll be having guests for breakfast.”_

_“… it’s those two again, isn’t it.”_

_“Don’t make that face. You like them.”_

_“Why, exactly, do I have to like them again? I'm fairly sure I don't, right now.”_

 

 

*

 

 

The first talk Darcy had had with her mother about soulmates had been when Darcy was ten. Or it was the one that Darcy remembered the most prominently. They had been snuggled together in her parents’ huge bed, watching TV on a lazy Saturday morning. Dad had been out with her baby-brother Brandon to play football, and Darcy and her mother had stayed at home and preferred to watch a documentation on the magnificence and superiority of tortoises, Darcy’s favourite animals at the time.

 

Her mother had been in one of her father’s shirts, the collar riding low, and one of her mother’s soulmarks – delicate words above her left breast – had been visible. Darcy had read them less often then the soulmark of her father’s words on her mother, on her mothers arm, so naturally she had been curious about them.

 

Her mother was one of those people who had an above average number of soulmarks. The average was usually two, one platonic and one usually romantic, and the next closer number was one. Her mother had three soulmarks, though Darcy didn’t know them all, but that day she had asked about them, and her mother had indulged her.

 

The first soulmark had been by a friend, and one by her first love who died when she was young, and the last had been her father’s soulmark. It had still confused Darcy a bit, because at the age of twelve, Darcy knew enough of the world to know that friendship and crushes were complicated – and that platonic friend soulmark of her mother was a guy that she knew even longer than her father.

 

“So how did you know if it was a platonic or a romantic soulmate when you met him first?” Darcy had demanded to know. Her mother had just smiled, and kissed her on the top of her head.

 

“That’s the beauty of it, darling. Either you never know, or at one point you’ll have a feeling. Maybe, had the world been different, I might have fallen for Neil, and not your father.”

 

Darcy had not been satisfied by that answer. But at the time she had only had one soulmark, and she had simply hoped that it would remain the only one and make it easy for her.

 

Her first soulmark had crept up along the inside of her left upper arm with a cool sensation of a water-drop running over her skin a couple of weeks before her twelfth birthday. She had been ecstatic at ‘ _Hey Babe, is this your iPod_?’ at that age for a number of reasons. The primary one being that this was a solid reason for her parents to give her an iPod as a birthday present. She hadn’t honestly thought much about the whole soulmate-business at twelve. For her it was just as much part of the natural way the world worked like the sun rising in the morning, and the moon changing its shape.

 

But just like the moon didn’t really change its shape, the whole soulmark-business wasn’t exactly as plain and simple and obvious. An Darcy had learned to understand that, slowly.

 

When Darcy was fifteen, her second soulmark had appeared in the middle of her making out for the first time with a guy, and left her freaked. Not only because this time, the soulmark came with an uncomfortably icy chill in a line of words wound around her right wrist, but also because the words weren’t as exchangeable as her first words. ‘ _Either you’re bloody stupid, have a death wish or you’re an undercover agent – and I’m not sure if I want to know either way._ ’

 

With words like these, Darcy could have gladly given up on the idea of soulmates. Suddenly the question of which would be her romantic soulmate had seemed less important.

 

What if her soulmate was crazy or dangerous? Not all soulmates ended up lovers, or even friends. A soulmate was not a ticket for a happily ever after. Even teenage-Darcy knew that already.

 

For weeks after her second soulmate appeared, she tried to keep it a secret. Looking back she couldn’t have told you why she did it at the time. Maybe not to freak others out. Especially her parents. Or maybe she had just been in denial.

 

Her mother found out, though, when summer came, and Darcy couldn’t go on wearing thick socks anymore. Her mother probably had been worried, but her mother had also always been someone who knew how to deal with a tough situation best – she had laughed and called her soulmate probably someone very dramatic. “A good match for you,” she had said to Darcy with a wink, and that had given Darcy the opportunity to roll her eyes, and wear the mark more confidently and make no big deal about it.

 

For most of her teenage and school years she kept expecting to run into one of her soulmates around each corner. Darcy wasn’t the most patient person, but neither would she have claimed herself to be unduly impatient.

 

When collage came and neither the iPod-soulmate nor the dramatic-soulmate made an appearance, she grew frustrated. Most people in their twenties did, as a statistic published in the New York Times at the weekend she moved to campus claimed. It seemed to be a statistic to highlight the growth of young people joining those who called themselves ‘Independents’. People who had their soulmarks covered, and some even removed, and refused to play along the grand scheme that the universe apparently had for them.

 

Darcy could have certainly, at the very least, gone without _another_ set of words running along her hips on her left, appearing only five months after her twentieth birthday. The burning sensation of ‘ _That’s my little nice kicking ass there!_ ’ startled her awake in the middle of the night.

 

She was none too happy about that. What the fuck. Her next soulmate would be telling a random stranger about his niece. Where would that be? When she was already married to some guy, at a school-theater-play? Or some old creep hitting on her on her parttime-job working as a waitress in a karaoke-bar?

 

The number of soulmarks you had was, of course, not genetic, but still Darcy had felt like calling her mother in the middle of the night and blaming her for this. Her father was a one-soulmark-guy, clearly this was all her mothers fault.

 

Her mother did advise Darcy to take some time off: she should try to get her mind of the waiting for soulmates. As usually, her mother’s advice was sound, and Darcy signed up last minute to the only open internship, only looking at what she had applied to, in the middle of the night, when she got an acceptance-email at the next morning. For once, she seriously hoped that she wouldn’t be meeting her soulmate _there_.

 

She didn’t. And New Mexico and London certainly helped taking her mind off of things. The whole year with Jane was pretty damn great in giving her a new perspective on things.

 

Because, hey, maybe her soulmates never showed up? But at least they weren’t some alien princes dropping from the sky, who went missing afterwards and were pretty unreachable anyway. At least they weren’t bat shit crazy and had to tried to kill her yet. Her soulmates were dramatic, but they talked about things like iPods and nieces and that was all good for her. (And the one who talked about undercover agents? It made a lot more sense since New Mexico, that for sure. But she really hoped he was just being dramatic, by now.)

 

Darcy had been, all things considered, pretty recharged and much more relaxed about the soulmate business when she returned to Culver to finish her degree.

 

She had not expected that the coming six months would introduce her to all of her soulmates, and that, in hindsight, Thor would have fit in pretty well with her soulmates to come.

 

*

 

_“Oh you big baby."_

_"Hey, don't hit me!"_

_"Get dressed already, they’ll be here any minute.”_

_“See? And you expect me to like them, if you always make a fuss about them.”_

_“I’m making a fuss about you, you dofus. You’d always run around naked if I’d let you.”_

_“I never heard you complaining about me being naked last night.”_

_“I’ll hit you again. Just saying.”_

_“You can try. But I have the syrup.”_

_“Oh yeah, and that so impresses me, you wannabe hero. Move your ass”_

_“I warned you.”_

_“…! You did not just…!”_

_“I warned you!”_

_“Oh this screams revenege!”_

_“I warned you…? Sorry?”_

_*_

Darcy was considering herself to be relatively normal person. Mostly. She sure hadn’t considered the possibility that she might be a magnet for trouble and crazy people, until that day in August.

 

Honestly, she had just been out to get ice cream from that vendor at the end of the street on her way home, after a long day in the University Library. The Sex Pistols had been up in her speakers, loud and cheery and she had had a good day so far. Maybe she had even been singing along, in public. Not overly loud, or anything, so she had been surprised when people started turning around, and then running.

 

She had just taken a second longer to understand that they hadn’t been looking at her, for all her crazy singing. When she turned to look over her shoulder it took her at least two more seconds to start running herself, all the while cursing like a sailor. Just her luck.

 

First fire-breathing robots and now a crazy maniac flying through the sky with mechanic wings and some mechanic tail, like he was a fucking dragon, lashing out against buildings on the street, debris hitting the street and people, where his flames missed.

 

She had dropped her iPod and started running, and had therefore managed to throw herself on the ground just before the tail whipped through the air where she had been standing. She also caught a glimpse of something burning on the other end of the street, moving towards her. She had had her arms over her head and tried praying loudly to any deity she knew and didn’t know and especially to that one she had met in person.

 

She had stayed that way until she heard people cheering. Then she had dared to look up, and had seen the final moments of that mechanical monster-dude being destroyed by the Fantastic Four – Mr. Fantastic containing him with his body. Darcy had sat up, and internally thanked whoever had sent these guys. At least the super-weird-monsters in her life were always balanced out by super-weird-heroes.

 

Sue Storm – as the woman later introduced herself – was the first to start making sure that the people around weren’t hurt, and at her command the rest of the team started, too. Darcy saw the young, hot one – literally, she could see some flames on him dying – picking up her iPod, and looking at it with interest. He better not melt it, she had just downloaded thirty new songs.

 

She felt too shaky to call out to him, but he looked up and around, and she did manage to raise a hand. Still, she didn’t expect it when he came over, with a self-assured grin, holding it out to her saying “Hey Babe, is this your iPod?”

 

She blanked, on him, and stared at him in a way that probably made him wonder if he should call the paramedics over. Before he could ask if she hit her head, or something, she chocked out a laughter, and a reply. “Yeah, hot stuff, thanks for saving my baby.”

 

Needless to say that Johnny Storm’s expression mirrored her own from moments before. He crouched down, and looked at her face, just as she did a once-over. And then he laughed, confused and relieved, while Darcy just felt like some weight was taken off her chest. “Oh thank god. I always worried that it was some weird mama hitting on me.”

 

Darcy grinned weakly, making a show of pressing the iPod against her heart. “I am a weird mama.” And then she held out her free hand. “Name’s Darcy Lewis. Pleasure to meet you.”

 

He took her hand, and shook it, with a grin. “Johnny Storm, but you probably know that.” Then his sister called out to him, to come over and lend her a hand, and Johnny called back for her to give him a second. He brought Darcy to the Paramedics himself, and waited till they were sure that she had nothing worse than a scraped knee and a shock, before he brought her over to meet Sue, and then to exchange numbers.

 

He promised he would call, and he did, the very next day. It wasn’t an overly long telephone call, just covering the basics about each other’s life – what had Darcy been doing in that city? Oh, so she was a student? Just finished, actually? Wow, great. Well, he was a superhero. But he was pretty much his own private jet, so if she’d like to meet up sometime? Great.

 

 

 

She hadn’t really had any expectations towards Johnny Storm, or how him being her soulmate would go down, to be honest. That worry, about knowing if a soulmark was platonic or romantic? She honestly hadn’t worried much. Though… well… of course she knew about his reputation.

 

She might have had a few fantasies about him. He was, admittedly, very much her type. Tall, muscly, handsome, blonde, puppy-dog-blue-eyes… yeah. Pretty much her type. (Though she made it a point of not telling Jane what her type was.) So she had actually almost expected him to be her romantic soulmate, somehow.

 

And they clicked, they really did. Shortly after they found each other, Johnny took her out to a classy movie-and-dinner-date. The movie was horrible, but they constantly snickered about the same horrible dialogue and worse special effects. And dinner was more of a pop quiz about movies, series and music. But it was fun.

 

They even made out a little, at the end of the date, and arranged for a second date. Just. Honestly speaking, as much as they clicked? It never moved much beyond the making-out bit, and soon enough, after they knew each other for about two or three weeks, she ran into Johnny in a club, where he was hitting on a girl.

 

For a moment it had been a bit awkward. He had looked at her like he expected a scene, and she had herself expected to be jealous, but, honestly… she had just felt a bit… offended, maybe. She hadn’t even been angry. He was known to chase women. He had done so for all the years that the media was on his tails, he would hardly make a 180°-turnaround just because of some words on his arm.

 

Had she expected him to change? She wasn’t so sure about that. She hadn’t expected herself to change jut because she met her soulmate, she wasn’t a small kid anymore. So she shouldn’t have expected him to change. But maybe a part of her had clung to the fairytale-idea that soulmates completed each other, and turned each other in the best versions of their selfes. Who was she to judge, though? If she liked Johnny the way he was, she shouldn’t expect him to change from being an insufferable flirt.

 

So Darcy decided to be rational about it. They had a talk – though Johnny looked like he was, again, expecting maybe a scene – and Darcy told him plain that though he was hot, and all, and her soulmate, she really didn’t feel the butterflies in that way. He was good-looking, but he couldn’t really fool either of them: he wasn’t looking for a relationship. And she wasn’t going to wait for him to be ready just because fate had put his words on her skin. And if they could give this platonic-thing a try, maybe, it could be that they’d both have more of it. She, at least, could use a friend. Her life was pretty chaotic recently.

 

The platonic-thing worked better than expected, for about a whole month. By the end of that month they were wing-manning each other, they had inside jokes and regular movie-nights with drinking games and complaints about scientists and siblings in their life. Johnny’s sister acted like she was still expecting them to realise that they were ‘soulmate’-soulmates in the romantic way, but Darcy was more sure with each passing day that they were pretty solid platonics.

 

Then in one night it was a bit frustrating when Johnny met his second soulmate, and the girl stared at him, as if he was a particularly vile sickness, and just left him standing. Both drank too much and it went beyond making out that night. In the morning, when they woke up on the couch of Darcy’s apartment, they vowed that it wouldn’t happen again. Too awkward by now. They were bros.

 

And Darcy was glad for it. She could use a good bro in her life, and Johnny obviously could use one as well, on his quest to find that girl again, and at least talk to her.

 

Darcy had not expected that she would be in a somewhat similar position herself, soon after that. When she got an e-mail from Jane that Jane would move to New York together with Thor, and that she had an open position for an assistant, Darcy actually thought her life was moving forward in a good way.

 

*

 

_“Okay, okay, okay, enough! I give up… I said I give up!”_

_“You ruined my shirt. And I have syrup in my hair! Now I’ll need to take a shower. And they’ll be here soon.”_

_“…I can lick it off?”_

_“…oh, you’d love that.”_

_“Can’t say that I wouldn’t. And you would like it, too.”_

_“Stop that.”_

_“You’re laughing. You like it.”_

_“Okay, seriously, stop it, you idiot. I’m going to get a shower.”_

_“And I’ll come with you…?”_

_“And you will make sure that the table is set and ready and perfect. Because you’re sorry you ruined my shirt.”_

_“.. yeah, but…!”_

_“Not listening! Taking a shower!”_

_“But! Darce!”_

 

*

 

 

She had not expected that her first day in New York would end with her meeting her second soulmate under less than favourable circumstances. Her first day in New York had been full of science!stories from Jane, meeting the other lab assistant of Jane’s shiny new lab, a happy greeting from Thor (who congratulated her on her finished degree with much more fervour that that slightly useless degree probably ventured), and lastly her going out to shop some stuff for the teeny-tiny run-down place that she had rented.

 

She had spent most of her day in the mall, and the sun had been going down when Darcy had moved to leave the mall, just intending to grab some Chinese food on her way out. Thinking back, she wondered if she should just refrain from grabbing food on her way home in the future.

 

The moment she had reached the ground floor and stood in line at the vendor, she had heard glass shattering, and looked up a bit surprised. Which was less than clever, because there were glass shards coming down, as two people fell down through the glass ceiling. Darcy had reacted quick enough in dropping her bags and covering her face with her arms as she moved backwards.

 

Terrified, high pitched screams had filled the place as gun-shots could be heard. For just a moment Darcy had felt lost, trying to get a grip of the situation. The two guys who had fallen acted as if falling through a ceiling was a piece of cake, just being on their legs within seconds, and engaging in hand to hand combat. One of them was in a black uniform, the other looked like he was a regular guy, with a baseball-cap, and askew glasses on his nose. And, well, maybe a bit more muscular than your regular next-door-neighbour.

 

And there were more guys on the roof, apparently, shooting down. There was combat noise up there, too. Darcy totally blamed the Men in Black, Johnny and the whole situation in New Mexico, because they had ruined her for action scenes - because against common sense, Darcy remained standing, trying to get a grip of the situation, as other people ran.

 

She had no freaking idea at whom of these two guy the guys on the roof where shooting. She also couldn’t tell if one of those guys was a good guy. What she did see was that there was a pregnant woman, on the ground next to the now empty vendor, cowering, holding unto the vendor stand, obviously having either cramps or just being generally unable to get up and move.

 

Darcy didn’t hesitate – or, at least, she didn’t hesitate much and only enough to quickly think how what the best way was – as she moved along the open place, over to the woman, trying to shield her from maybe stray-bullets (oh thor) or at least trying to help her up enough so she could move her out of the danger of stray bullets (oh sweet baby thor).

 

 

The woman was gritting her teeth, but she was leaning on Darcy with full force, clearly doing her best in moving. But even when she was out of hazard’s way as far as possible, now behind one of the column’s that was holding up the upper floor, Darcy decided to remain close. She pulled her phone from her jeans-pocket, and checked, but weirdly enough, she had no signal. No way to call Johnny for help. Darcy cursed.

 

She leaned out from behind the column again, looking up at the ceiling. There were some guys coming in on steel-strings, very slowly. Obviously the ceiling wasn’t a solid support anymore. And there were some guys who had the same uniform as one of the fighters, on the upper floors, trying to aim at the two still engaged in combat.

 

What caught her eye was an arrow that came flying through the opening. She followed it with her eyes, and it hit with perfect aim one of the guys coming in, in their uniforms. Darcy looked up, looking for a guy with a bow. And yep, there was one, lying on the now-otherwise-empty ceiling. She recognized him. She had seen him on TV, while she had been in Norway with Jane. He was one of the good guys. He was with Thor.

 

So probably… the guys on the upper floor in uniform were all bad guys. And that black-haired guy was the … ultimate bad guy, and the blonde one a good guy. So probably on her side… by extension, because she firmly counter herself on Thor’s side. Roger that.

 

Darcy instinctively reached for her purse – and cursed, when she remembered having dropped it. She turned back to the woman, asking her to stay put. She had to go out there. And then she lowered herself, her hands on the floor, and moved very slowly forward, edging out from behind the column, towards that damn vendor again.

 

She did manage to reach her purse, but squealed out loud in shock, when a bullet just barely missed her head. What the fuck? Who shot a girl reaching for a purse? What did they think she was having in there? A bomb? Darcy grabbed the damn thing and ran for cover, behind a different column than the pregnant woman was. Right. Don’t pull the innocent into this.

 

… what was she, though, if not a damn innocent civilian being pulled into this shit?

 

Darcy pulled out her self-defence weapons from her purse. Her taser and pepper-spray. Right. Okay. She whistled, and called out an eloquent ‘Hey, you, pregnant!’ to make the woman look over to her. Then she rolled the pepper-spray towards her. The woman looked at her with a mixture of awe, confusion and thankful determination.

 

Then Darcy leaned round behind the column. The bad guy was with his back towards her. She could probably hit him. She had good aim. She just needed to get from her hiding space for that. And… well.. apparently the dudes up there weren’t above shooting a pretty girl. Right. So. Err. Was there anything that she could use for cover?

 

She looked around a bit desperately. Again, her eyes landed on the close-by vendor-stand. There was a big wok. It looked pretty solid. Heavy, but… well, she needed heavy to protect from bullets. If she made it that far. Darcy inhaled deeply, counting to ten, mentally praying to any gods above that they’d help her out again. Surely they hadn’t kept her from being fried twice just to have her shot.

 

At one, Darcy darted out from behind the column. She reached the vendor stand, and pulled at the wok, cursing when she noted that it was freaking hot. She moved it over to her best abilities, so the noodles and the sauce hit the floor, though half of it was spilled on her, and then pulled it with an angry huff and grunt over her upper body. More nooles dropped on her head, but she couldn’t exactly care. She was honestly surprised that it only took her a few seconds to manage this.

 

Nothing hit her, so she wasn’t sure if the wok would really work against bullets, but she sure damn well wouldn’t try to stay and test it. She moved back to her column quickly. Maybe they were too confused by what she was doing to see her as a thread.

 

Darcy glanced at the pregnant woman. The woman gave a shaky thumbs-up. Brave thing. Darcy gave a thumbs up back, and then grabbed her protection with one hand and the taser with the other. She hadn’t used it since New Mexico, she just hoped it would work as well on this guy as it had on the dropped god.

 

As soon as the two fighting guys had moved so the black haired guy was with his back towards Darcy again, Darcy made her move out from behind the column, ran like wildfire was chasing her, aimed and fired.

 

She didn’t hit her aim. Darcy had aimed for the spot between the shoulder blades, but what she got was the guys neck. Which. Was okay, too. Darcy was a bit surprised when the two prongs entered through the skin –she actually did it - and the guy did indeed spasm and go down. Which left the blonde dude staring at her for a second in utter surprise.

 

She might have looked just as surprised. And… well… she was probably quite the picture, with the noddles, and drenched in soy-sauce, with a wok over half of her upper body.

 

And then he looked up. Darcy followed his gaze, and the arrow dude gave blondie a sign. Blondie turned around, screaming, from the top of his lungs. “All civilians, run to the parking! A swat-team of the police waits there for you and takes you to safety! Leave now, don’t do anything stupid! _Don’t_ try to help! We have everything under control.”

 

He hadn’t looked at her, but she had a feeling he was saying this last part specifically at her. Darcy narrowed her eyes a bit, slightly shaken from what the hell she had just done, and maybe just a bit put off by the reaction it had got her. There wasn’t even a thanks. There should be a thanks. She had risked her life. She could be dead.

 

Good god, She could be dead. Maybe she should be dead. (Praise the adrenaline for her realising this only now.) Darcy glanced up at the upper ranks. The guys in the uniform of the bad guy were gone. Huh. So that was why nobody had shot at her.

 

Then she looked at the blonde guy again, who was looking her over, with narrowed eyes. Well, never let it be said that Darcy wasn’t a polite saviour of the day. “It was my utter pleasure saving your ass, you’re very welcome, and thanks in the form of coffee is accepted readily.”

 

She wasn’t sure what she should make of his expression. He stared at her, with anger welling up in his eyes, gritting his teeth. And then, suddenly, he moved towards her. She moved backwards, till her back hit the column, where he grabbed her shoulder and shoved her on the other side, not really gently.

 

And then he looked her in the eyes, deeply, for a moment. She really couldn’t make anything of his expression, but – hey, didn’t he look kind of a lot like Johnny?

 

“‘Either you’re bloody stupid, have a death wish or you’re an undercover agent – and I’m not sure if I want to know either way. Don’t get in my way again.” He let go of her shoulder, turned around, and started running. Darcy was left staring dumbfounded, for a moment.

 

Then she heard a whistle. “Hey, you, noodles.” Darcy looked over to the pregnant woman, who had pulled herself up from the ground, leaning a bit on the column. She nodded with her head towards the sign that showed where the exit to the parking lot was. “Let’s move.”

 

Darcy did move, if only because her self-preservation skills finally kicked in. She made it to the parking lot together with the pregnant woman without any harm, or seeing anything of her – apparently – second soulmate. She even overcame her weak knees, and she managed to fight down the urge to scream, or cry. She didn’t manage to fight the slight onset of hysteria, when helpless laughter welled up in her, as she was checked through by the paramedics, who bandaged her hands, which had sustained mediocre burnes from the wok.

 

She only calmed herself when she and some more civilians were moved towards a black van, (maybe to be questioned, she had no idea, black vans were terrible things) and someone called out her name. Never before had Darcy been so happy to see Johnny coming running towards her. She didn’t even bother asking him why he was here. Maybe the Fantastic Four worked together with her people now.

 

Johnny stayed with her when she was, indeed, question by the Men-in-Black aka SHIELD, and he made sure that she got to her place safely. He let her talk through it, and he told her he was proud of her bravery, especially after she told him that her other soulmate seemed to think her a bloody idiot.

 

In that moment, at least, she decided that she couldn’t have wished for a better soulmate than Johnny anyway. He stayed around, made jokes about her being the noodly-superhero of the day, he made jokes of her probably having scared Captain America shitless. He put in ‘The Nanny’ because he knew it always cheered her up, and he got her favourite ice cream for her. He was there for her, and let her pity herself for having an ass for a second soulmate, and he let her breathe through the shock of what had happened later that night, when she sobbed all the way through the ending of the third season of ‘the Nanny’.

 

 

 

He took it up on himself to accompany her to work on the next morning, too, hanging around lazily in the lab, telling Jane all about Mr. Fantastic’s own lab (which was equally boring, he made sure to let Darcy know) and told Thor all about a show called ‘The Ninja Turtles’ that he had to watch, while Jane fussed a bit about Darcy’s burned hands.

 

Apparently, Agent Coulson had stopped by earlier, and mentioned what Darcy had done in the passing. Thor had told her that she shouldn’t try to take it quite as literally when he called her a ‘shieldsister’ in the future – or if she required a shield, he’d be sure to get a real one, not one for making food. Darcy actually laughed the first time that morning at that comment.

 

That is, until Captain freaking America pushed open the door to the lab, with a stone-sober expression, and Darcy almost choked on her coffee. Because, yeah, she knew by now that Blondie from yesterday was Captain America. She just honestly hadn’t recognized him, with the glasses and the cap. Didn’t make it any better, though.

 

Had Darcy just given Johnny a sign, she was sure he would have swept her up in his arms and would have helped her escape from the lab within seconds. Sadly, her brain hadn’t been working quickly enough. She had remained sitting, and coughing with a hand in front of her mouth, while her brain was behaving like the brain of a lizard – quickly looking which escape routes were open, but also contemplating just playing dead.

 

Captain America looked like he wasn’t exactly happy being here either, but he looked also determinately at her, and murmured a low something along the lines of “I think we need to talk”. Darcy grimaced. She hadn’t actually decided if she wanted to ever see him again. Talk? Talk sounded like something mature, and reasonable. She wasn’t sure if she was mature and reasonable yet.

 

It was Jane who took the decision out of her hands and moved to usher everyone out of the room. Though neither Thor nor Johnny (and Johnny in particular) looked like they wanted to leave her like this, and Darcy mentally made a note that that earned both of them an extra-dose of pop tarts from her. The lab-goon was actually too busy staring at Captain America like a love-sick puppy to resist Jane’s pushing, so Jane had all of them out within half a minute. She had a scary strength in these tiny-scientist arms of hers that Darcy couldn’t really comprehend. Usually, Darcy appreciated Jane’s strength.

 

Actually, she would have appreciated having a bit of that strength at that moment. Because under Blondie’s blue-eyed gaze she had felt decidedly unsure of herself. She licked her lips, sighted, and clicked her tongue, as if that helped to snap her out of that odd feeling. She would have clapped her hands, for good measure, but that wouldn’t have been a smart idea, given their current state. Burns. Right.

 

So clicking her tongue like a stressed parrot had to be enough to snap her out of it. It was time for her to put on her figurative big-girl-panties and a brave face.

 

She took her arms off the table and leaned back, as if even this bit of distance could help her to put some mental-distance to the topic of their upcoming conversation. It helped enough for her to crack a joke, at least. “You are not bringing coffee as instructed, so I have to presume that you’re not here to thank me for saving your ass.” Way to go Darcy. That showed him.

 

He actually did look like she had put something particularly painful between his but-cheeks. “They told be a me a bit about you. You’re a civilian, just finished college, no combat training. I had been hoping that you really had been a trained secret-agent, so there could have been a chance that it wasn’t as reckless a plan as it had looked like.”

 

She barely managed a shrug, and a wry smile. Though she surely didn’t feel like smiling that particular moment. She had the other options as words around her wrist, after all. “Sorry. And to spoiler you: I don’t have a death wish, so it seems you’re stuck with a ‘bloody idiot’ for a soulmate.” The words left a sour taste in her mouth.

 

She saw the door move a bit behind the Captain, but didn’t comment on it. Probably Johnny was at the door, making sure that she was fine. It made her feel a bit better. If the Captain noticed, too, he didn’t show it. He was still visibly unhappy. “It was… reckless. And stupid. Jumping in this fight like that.”

 

“Well, karma,” said someone in the door, and Darcy was a bit surprised to hear that that someone had a low, female, sultry voice. Blondie tensed, and turned sideways, so he could look at the woman. Darcy cocked her head to the side, so she could see her as well, because that sure hadn’t been Jane.

 

And, nope. That redhead wasn’t Jane. She did look kind of smug, though, when she looked at Darcy, with a perfect eyebrow raised a bit. “That guy here-“ and she nodded with her head in his direction “… has had his own fair of slightly irresponsible, idiotically heroic tactics. You deserve each other, it seems.”

 

The Captain looked less unhappy, but a bit put off. He opened his mouth, as if to protest, but shut it, when the red-head raised an eyebrow at him. There was so much of a ‘try me’ in that gaze that even Darcy wouldn’t have dared to challenge the woman on it. Then Blondie frowned, for a moment. There was some more silent communication transpiring there. Their telepathy-game was strong.

 

Then he turned, and looked at Darcy again. And now, finally, his posture did seem to change, as he brought up a hand and rubbed his neck. “I am, ah, sorry. For my words. It wasn’t the kindest thing to say to a dame. Your act threatened the mission, and your life, and the life of civilians. I suppose I was … shocked, to find my soulmate in these circumstances, acting that way.”

 

There was an apology in there, somewhere. No thanks, for the ass-saving, but an apology. That was… a start. Darcy managed a smile, and raised her two bandaged hands to do the jazz hands. “Welcome to the club.” Because how did he think she had felt meeting him that way?

 

Then she lowered her hands, because clearly Blondie’s eyes had darted back and forth between the bandages, and then lingered on the words on her right writs, and she didn’t need to visibly remind him of why he had gotten angry. Darcy did a slight shrug. “I know it wasn’t that clever, what I did, but I really didn’t have the time to do clever in that moment. So, you know. You’re free to keep referring to me as ‘bloody idiot’, because I’m branded as one, but you could also call me Darcy. If you’d like.”

 

The Captain did actually, move his facial muscles around into something that could be considered a twitch of a smile, for a moment. “I’m Steve.” And then he pointed over his shoulder, with his thumb. “And this is Natasha.”

 

“I was the one who made sure that you didn’t get shot. And I actually quite like your style. The shield idea. Reminds me of someone.” Darcy might have actually smiled at the red-head’s comment. Natasha. Someone was on her side, it would seem. Even she got that Captain-America-jibe there.

 

Before Darcy could reply, though, the door that Natasha was leaning in got opened widely, and Johnny got in. He moved past Steve, who looked at him a bit confused, and the Johnny came over to put an arm around Darcy’s shoulder. He grinned, at both of them, but it wasn’t his usual, carefree grin. Darcy raised an eyebrow. “And I’m Johnny. Darcy’s first soulmate.”

 

 

 

And with that, Johnny set the tone for the following month. Darcy wasn’t sure why he did seem to dislike Steve. Maybe it was just because he had seen how his behaviour had hurt her, initially. Or it was because Johnny often got compared to Steve (they did look eerily alike). But Johnny made it a point of often make Captain America jokes when he could And when Darcy and Steve started tentatively meeting every once in a while, to get acquaintance with each other, Johnny often occupied her flat, making it a point of trying to spend more time with her than Steve did.

 

She did get along with Steve, over time. It wasn’t like it had been with Johnny, the easy way the two of them had, where everything seemed to fall into place and had made them easily fall into habits and into a friendship.

 

She had a hard time finding topics that she could talk with Steve about. Their life’s were very different, and they had absolutely no common ground – not even trivial stuff like music, and movies. So Darcy did her best to create common ground for them, but Steve didn’t like being out in the public much, so there was no way they could just go and see a movie together.

 

The first time they found a common interest was when Steve found her sketch-book of New Mexico. She didn’t tell him that she had merely started it then, out of total boredom, and had not touched a pencil since. He was too happy to comment on her pictures, and tell her of his own sketches. So she asked him to teach her a bit.

 

It was just a starting point, but it made it easier. It opened him up, in a way, because it was the first time that he willingly told her something of himself. And it came easier after that. It made it easier for her to ask, too, which in turn allowed him to ask her things.

 

And they had similarities, even though they didn’t find them at first. Natasha had certainly been right that they had a similar style, in some points. Darcy was truly delighted to discover that Steve ‘Captain America’ Rogers could be a little shit if he wanted to be, though it only seemed to show with people he was more comfortable with. Like, when she saw him with Natasha, or later with the guy who introduced himself as Sam.

 

And the more at ease she was with Steve, the more grudgingly did Johnny start to accept him as well. It was a slow process, but at one point, even the two of them even found a common topic. Darcy prayed that her third soulmate could find a way into these dynamics – and that, hopefully, she would meet him under less dire circumstances.

 

*

 

_“You smell good.”_

_“Sure I do, I used the shampoo you got me. … why do you look so sour_ now _?”_

_“Urgh. Can’t they just come over tomorrow…? It’s our free day. It’s our Sunday, and I can’t even ravish you even though you smell like that.”_

_“It’s Soulmate Sunday. We established this months ago.”_

_“I know! I’ve had to see them every week!”_

_“Quit making a fuss. I know you like talking baseball with them.”_

_“… I like not-talking with_ you _better.”_

_“Oh, no. Nope. Don’t give me that look.”_

_“What?”_

_“Your superpower. Those puppy-dog eyes”_

_“I would never!... “_

_“Yeah, sure. Forget it.I am not giving in.”_

_“….”_

_“Nope. Quit it. They’ll be here any second now.”_

_*_

Darcy had been in the middle of trying to convince Jane that they needed a super-mega new, shiny coffee maker for their lab (because of reasons) when her phone buzzed with a new message on facebook. So she had not checked her phone in favour of shameless pleading, baiting and begging. And she only found the friend request and the message a couple of hours later, when it was lunch break and she met with Steve for their weekly coffee.

 

She had meant to show Steve a picture of Thor with his hair in Danaerys Targaryen’s braids, which she had made under physical pain to her fingers – and thereby, she had won his bet and he was the one to pay for this round of lattes and muffins. (It had been a honest and true delight to introduce Steve to Game of Thrones, and an even greater delight when he was a little shit and had noted that the braid would look swell on Thor, but probably not even Darcy could charm Thor into having that done.).

 

She was a bit surprised when she then noted the friend request by a brightly smiling ‘Don Mama’. She probably would have just ignored the request if Steve hadn’t recognized the broad smile as - ‘Isn’t that the pregnant woman from … the mall thing? A month ago?’

 

Turned out that the woman truly was the one Darcy had helped save. In the message ‘Donna’ sheepishly excused herself for messaging out of nowhere and actually late. She had overheard her giving the black-suited government agents her name, but it had taken her a while to find her on facebook. She would like to thank her, for saving her life, and introduce her to her family. If Darcy’d be up for that, her daughter had a soccer match this weekend (sorry for the late notice), and they could meet up there.

 

Darcy had been surprised, like, a lot, but she had instantly agreed to meet Donna. They had been in an adventure together, and Donna had seemed pretty cool in that situation, so why not? The soccer bit was a bit weird, but that was typical for parents; they always seemingly needed to show off how cool their kids where. Darcy remembered her parents doing the same, and inviting every neighbour and distant relative to her school plays.

 

The next thing she did was order a shirt of Captain America drawn as a ‘Baby Avenger’ to bring as a gift – because that was a thing, right? – and then she texted Steve and Johnny and asked if they wanted to come along. For one, because she could appreciate it if the two of them got along, and secondly, because she knew that Johnny, at least, was into soccer. And Stevie could always use new hobbies.

 

 

 

The day the game took place was a warm day, and the game was outside, so Darcy actually found herself looking forward to that when she was picked up by Johnny. They were met by Donna outside of the soccer field, where she stood waiting with a man – her husband, judging from facebook pictures.

 

Donna was even rounder than when she had been in the mall, and the belly made her enthusiastic hug with which she immediately engulfed Darcy just a bit awkward. But her bright, happy smile was really endearing. Darcy introduced her to Johnny and Steve, and she thought that Donna might recognize Steve, but if she did she didn’t say anything. Instead, she introduced them to her husband, Malcolm. Her brother was with her daughter right now, so they’d get to meet him in a bit. Her daughter always needed a peptalk from her uncle before the game, she revealed with a smile.

 

Then Malcolm asked the two guys to help him get some food from the vendors and Darcy and Donna walked towards the stands. It was more crowded than Darcy would have expected a children’s soccer game to be.

 

As they sat down, Donna looked Darcy over. “You look even better without noodles on you. No wonder you have these two good-looking guys with you.”

 

Darcy laughed. Okay, Donna really was blunt. She liked her increasingly much. “Yeah, well, what can I say? The universe apparently decided I deserve some tasty men in my life.”

 

At that Donna raised one eyebrow, and actually whistled. “The universe? Those are your soulmates? You _are_ a lucky girl. No wonder that you relied on your luck so much. Someone up there’s clearly looking out for you.”

 

Of course Darcy got that that was a comment about her behaviour in the mall. Just… was it approving, or not? She shrugged. “Well, but Malcolm’s a good looking guy, too, so I don’t think you’re too bad off yourself.”

 

“You got it,” Donna replied with a cheeky grin, one hand absentmindedly starting to rub her belly. “But he’s not actually my soulmate. He’s a blank.”

 

Err.. wow. Okay. Darcy blinked a couple of times. Blanks, people without soulmarks, were a bit of an awkward thing. Nobody could really tell if the person would remain without a soulmark – which did occur, albeit rarely – or if he was just a late bloomer, and his soulmark would appear later in life. Either way, it wasn’t often talked about, and usually a topic that was to be avoided.

 

Clearly sensing Darcy’s discomfort at the relevation, Donna made a vague gesture with her hand. “Oh, don’t worry, he’s very open about it. My parent’s weren’t too thrilled when we married, because they would worry that he’d drop me if a soulmark did appear, but I kind of doubt that. And soulmark or not, he is like a soulmate to me.”

 

The smile on Donna’s face never vanished, so Darcy tried to not feel as uneasy about it as she currently felt. Because, hey, if the two of them were comfortable with it, why shouldn’t she? “And you? Do you have a soulmark?”

 

Donna nodded and rolled up her sleeve. There was a handwriting on her arm that looked almost as smudged as one of Darcy’s own soulmarks. ‘ _You’re really ugly, Don._ ’ At Darcy’s increduled expression, Donna snorted. “To his defense, my soulmate was five when he said that. And I was a very ugly baby.” And then, after a slight pause, she added “And he’s my older brother. I think older brothers are bound to be mean to their younger sisters.”

 

Oh, wow. That was something Darcy had not yet encountered. Sibling-soulmates. Soulmate-bonds within a family weren’t encountered too often, and if so, rarely among first-degree-relatives. And meeting your soulmate as a baby? Wasn’t that a bit, awkward? Darcy couldn’t help but grin. “What were your first words to him, then?”

 

Donna laughed, brushing some hair behind her ear in an almost embarrassed gesture. “ _’Jenny up_.’ So, yeah, he was a bit punished with that petname on his hip. We’re even.”

 

This was priceless. She was so going to tell that Jane. And she thought that Ian’s ‘ _Condoms?_ ’ was an embarrassing soulmark. (To Ian’s credit, he had only been a bit awkward about it. And when it turned out that his words to the guy in the Ikea had been ‘ _Sorry, you dropped your… er…._ ’ It had made a lot more sense.)

 

Then, suddenly, music started playing, and a mixed group of little girls and boys started dancing on the field. Donna turned her head, and grinned. “Oh, the cheerleaders! I loved that. Malcolm wanted for Terry – Theresa, actually, that’s our girl, she’s nine - to try and become a cheerleader and took her to a soccer game when she was five. She immediately got hooked on soccer instead. She’s a real talent. But you’ll see.”

 

Darcy nodded, and looked to the kids on the field. “Sure, no doubt. And, hey, Theresa’s a cool name.” Then she made a slight nod towards Donna’s belly. “Do you know what name this one’s going to get?”

 

One hand rubbing circles on her belly, Donna looked down with a half-tired sigh. “That’s… partially, why I invited you today.” Err… what? Donna didn’t notice Darcy’s confused expression, she was too focused on her stomach.

 

“We can’t settle for name, you know. With Terry we actually just decided the day she was born, and we had a ridiculous long fight over it. In the middle of the labor room. I think I gave the nurses a good scare when I threatened to choke Malcolm with our baby-girl’s umbical cord.” She laughed, at the memory, but the laugh was quickly followed by a grimace. “We agreed to avoid it this time, but we have that problem of pushing off things we don’t really want to face.”

 

“Oh, I can honestly relate to that. I’m the queen of procrastinating,” Darcy nodded. Not that naming a child could compare to doing the dishes, or resorting the library on her iPod, but… well, the sentiment. She could relate to the sentiment.

 

Donna laughed. “I know, right? So, last week Malcolm made an ultimatum for us. If we can’t settle for a name by the end of the week we let my brother decide. And, believe me, that would be the worst possible out come for the child. We don’t really want a kid named ‘Princess Peach’, ‘Khaleesi’, or ‘Xena’. He would do that.”

 

She was trying to fight down the broad grin in biting her lip, but Darcy had a hard time keeping it from her voice, too. “Oh yes. _Terrible_ names. … So it’s going to be a girl?”

 

“Yes, another one. Malcolm was insanely pleased,” Donna stopped rubbing her belly, but the broad smile shifted to a softer one, as she looked at Darcy. “I was kind of hoping to get a boy, this time round, but I’m not really sad. I want lot’s of kids anyway, so there’s always time for a boy later. And Terry is more than happy to get a sister as well. She wants to teacher her to play.”

 

As if on cue, a shrill sound was to be heard and people around them started applauding, as the cheer was over, and the different teams of kids marched on the field.

 

Donna just looked at the field for a moment, and then turned her full body towards Darcy, with a pleading look. “I hope it isn’t too awkward, but… would you be okay if we named our kid after you?”

 

Darcy’s mouth fell open and she leaned backwards, taken a back by the request for a moment. “What? I mean… what?”

 

Tentatively, Donnna grabbed one of Darcy’s hand, squeezing it. “You saved me, and her, that day. You were brave, and a bit brash, admittedly, but you were also very kind, and gutsy. If our kid has some of that, we’ll be more than happy. You don’t have to decide now, of course, just let me know on facebook, or something. Okay?”

 

Darcy nodded, her eyebrows wavering between a frown, and shooting up in disbelief, and lowering themselves to a slight frown again. Then she shrugged. And then… she shrugged again, not able to surprises a grin. Having a kid named after you? She was _so_ a superhero. “Sure. I mean… hey, it’s your kid, and it’s a free country, and all. I’d be honoured, I guess.”

 

The smile on Donna’s face now really was all too happy altogether, and she gave Darcy’s hand one more squeeze before letting go. “Thank you. That means a lot to us.”

 

 

 

The game started, then, and Malcolm returned with Steve and Johnny, who sat down next to him. They handed over two softdrinks and a box of popcorn and one of the Nacho-boxes, before Johnny and Malcolm embarked on a mission to introduce Steve to the finer details of why soccer was awesome.

 

Darcy had already been on the receiving end of one of Johnny’s lessons on soccer, so Donna didn’t have to tell her much, and the two just exchanged some comments on “Is that refree blind?” and “That was foul play!”.

 

In all honesty, Darcy found herself more absorbed by the game than she had expected, and she was honestly startled enough to actually yelp when somebody sat down in the empty seat on her left.

 

At a first glance at the guy with the sideburns and the pink shirt she thought he could have been a bit of a long-lost n-synch member. His smile was broad, though, and then he leaned over, pointing at Terry, who had just outsmarted the other team’s defences. He was almost shouting his comment at her “That’s my little nice kicking ass there!”

 

For a moment, Darcy just stared at him. Then his words sunk in, and Darcy inhaled deeply – only to hold her breath. What the hell?

 

With his beard, his hella strong arms, the glasses and the proud “Go… Pentunias!”-Shirt. He was… not what she had expected. But good looking. In a rough and a bit… hmn – nerdy? – kind of way.

 

She had been thinking about what her reply to that could be, but none of the smart-ass things came to mind. And when her staring started to get weird, and the proud grin on his face shifted into one of ‘is this chick nuts, or something?’ she did the first thing that came to mind.

 

She reached for the hem of her shirt with her left hand, and rasied it up – his eyes bulged, his eyebrows shot up - so he could see his words on her skin. “… Go Pentunias?”

 

For a moment his eyes just lingered on the words, then he looked up, and he grinned so stupidly happy that Darcy felt kind of flattered. He reached for the collar of his T-Shirt, and pulled on it, to reveal the top of his left breast, just above his heart, where her words were to be seen. “… Hell yeah. Go Pentunias. Hallelujah.”

 

For only one more moment they stared at their words on each other’s skin, and that was when someone in Terry’s team scored, and everyone around them jumped up with loud screaming and whooping.

 

Darcy extended her hand, and tried to outscream the people around them. “Hi, I’m Darcy.”

 

He took her hand, and replied “Jake,” but she could see the gears working in his head, and his eyes shot to his sister, who was screaming louder than everyone else, happily hugging Malcolm. “Wait, you’re _that_ Darcy? The badass chick from the Mall? With the noodles?” He nodded towards his sister, for emphasis.

 

If Darcy grinned proudly now, who could blame her? The noodles thing was a bit uncool, she could have done without noodles sticking to the most heroic (and, according to steve, stupid) deed in her life, but yeah. Moving on. “Guess that would be me, yeah. And you’re ‘Jenny’, aren’t you?”

 

The look of rightful indignity, that he shot at his sister over Darcy’s shoulder, who was sitting down slowly again and didn’t notice it, amused her. “That’s what she tells people of me, before I even met them? _Rude_ , much, Don.” Then he looked back at Darcy. “She could have told you that I’m quite badass myself. I have dangerous moves. And I’m certified the best uncle.”

 

Maybe it was mean, but Darcy couldn’t help darting a meaningful look at his pink shirt. Because, honestly? Nothing short of deep love for a family member (or soulmate, for that matter) could excuse him wearing that shirt. “No shit.”

 

She wasn’t sure if he got what she meant, but his grin never weavered, when he reached up and ran a hand through his hair. “So, … I can’t believe I’m saying this, because I really hate to miss my nieces games, but, wanna go somewhere more quiet? Wait. That did come out wrong. I’m not suggesting a motel, or anything. Not that I’d opposed, I mean. But… there’s a Burger King, just round the corner.”

 

Okay, in his own, quite weird way, this dude had style. Inviting her to go to a fast food place with him, first thing. Darcy looked over her shoulder. Johnny and Steve remained in a discussion with Malcolm, and Donna remained taken with her daughter’s prowess on the field. Darcy turned back to Jake, and nodded. “Oh, sure, why not. If you’re asking like that, I could use a milkshake on the shock.”

 

Conveniently, Terry’s team scored again. Nobody even noticed that they got up to leave.

 

 

 

Nobody noticed that they had left for at a little while, or if they noticed, they didn’t exactly miss them. But they were missed right around the same time – when the game was over. Darcy’s phone buzzed with a message from Johnny, and Donna called Jake just a few seconds later.

 

Explaining that they were, apparently, soulmates, and showing of their marks when they returned was fun enough. Donna seemed thrilled, at least, and Steve was civil towards Jake. Johnny didn’t seem too pleased, and acted outright suspicious of Jake, but Terry did seem very sceptic towards Darcy as well. Actually, that fit. Terry behaved like a child, and she behaved a lot like Johnny. Johnny did behave like a child. Hah. Only very minor less hostile towards Jake than towards Steven, initially.

 

Darcy talked to her mom on the phone about this, and as always, her mother knew best. She advised Darcy to give it time, and maybe make sure that the guys got time around each other to be comfortable with each other. Okay, well. Darcy’s mum actually said that she should give them an opportunity to sniff each others, because that’s what you do when you bring a new dog home. But, still. The idea fit.

 

So that was when Darcy intrudcted the idea of Soulmate Sunday. Whatever they did, when none of her boys was actually involved in saving the world somehow, they met at her place for the day. Starting with brunch, then often moving to some activity (board games, video games, movies, sometimes even something outdoor) and ended with dinner and all of her boys thanking her and assuring her that it had been a great day.

 

And it really was. Everytime. Steve loosened up on those days, and showed that he actually could keep match anyone of them when anyone came up with shenanigans. Jake had sometime some surprisingly deep stuff to say about life, and Darcy couldn’t have been happier to see that Steve seemed able to confine in him about his war stories, and the things that troubled him. And Johnny, though hostile towards both initially, was the one who suggested that sometimes they should actually have a boys night out, when Darcy was meeting up with Jane. Though he showed it very rarely, he did respect Steve and Jake – and he did make the effort to cheer Steve up, when he was especially solemn after some of his missions.

 

When she called her mum to tell her that it seemed to work nicely, her mother was rather pleased with her daughter. And then, after a pause, she asked “So… remember your question you asked me about soulmates when you were a kid?”

 

Darcy laughed, with the phone pressed between check and shoulder, peeling herself a banana. “What question, of the bazillion of questions I asked, exactly?”

 

“Do you know which one of your soulmates is platonic? Or is there even one that isn’t?”

 

Darcy paused. She stared at her banana in contemplation. “… you know. I think there might be one.”

 

*

_“You know I love you, right?”_

_“Yes. Yes I know. And I love you, too.”_

_“… so?”_

_“We’re still not cancelling Soulmate-Sunday.”_

_“D’awww. You drive a hard bargain.”_

_“I’m not bargaining with you, actually.”_

_“That’s what I’m saying. You’re kind of cruel. With cruel, cruel eyes.”_

_“Yes. And you have no power over me, David Bowie, so bring me the spoons.”_

_“I think I like it when you’re cruel.”_

_“Spoons!”_

_“Will it get me a kiss if I play nice?”_

_“Nope. But it heightens your chance that I won’t eat all the ice cream without you tonight.”_

_“Cruel Woman. I love that.”_

_“I know.”_

_“C’mere.”_

 

*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bval-1 said:  
> "Darcy prompt! Lol I'm cool with Darcy/Steve Rogers, Darcy/Jake Jensen (The Losers), or Darcy/Johnny Storm . . . Or all three if you're up for a challenge lol but all I'm asking is for them to be in an established relationship already and for them to just be cute and fluffy :) they can be having a romantic picnic date at the park/beach or have a nice lazy Sunday morning/afternoon. Have fun! ❤️"
> 
>  
> 
> So I took forever to pick this prompt up. Bval-1 send it to me last September, I think. One of the reasons was that I hadn’t seen The Losers yet and was oddly intruiged by the possibility of yet another crossover ship for my collection. Thanks for the suggestion, dear! So I went and watched ‘The Losers’, but I only got around to watching it in November. And then I faced an impasse as to how to arrange a story in which all of them would be in a healthy lovely established relationship.  
> I had thousands of angsty, parallel-universe, clone ideas and I started at least three different one shots, never really satisfied because I just couldn’t hit the mood that was asked for. Prompt me to do angst and I spit it out like nobodies business, but ask me for something drama-free, healthy or fluffy and I get cramps in my brain. 
> 
> So. I tried. This baby was the most drama free of all the different versions I’ve tried, and I still had to start it over three times, because I couldn’t find a flow. To make up for the timely-delay what I did was throwing my favourite au of all au’s, curtesy to amusewithaview, at it – the soulmate-identifying marks au. I think I remember you commenting on some of those stories, and that you fairly like them yourself, bval, so I hope that surprise makes up for the long wait. :)
> 
>  
> 
> As for the ending – it’s pretty much up to you to decide who gus fits best :) Feel free to share your thoughts with me, though!


	4. FYDL-Chain-gang: Le gustaría vivir en Nueva York (She would like living in New York)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Posted on October 17th, 2015 to tumblr as Part of the 'Fuck Yeah Darcy Lewis: Chain Gang Challenge'. Which is still running, open ended, i believe.  
> Two lines of dialoge (the first words) as well as the pairing were given :)

## Le gustaría vivir en Nueva York (She would like living in New York)

Hell, this Halloween party was the worst. Or the best. Darcy was sure that it demanded a superlative. She had been to many parties in her life, but, nothing compared to a floor-wide Stark-issued party. It was overwhelming. And usually, Darcy wasn’t easily overwhelmed. But she had lost Jane within the first five minutes here, and had been wandering around a little lost. There was fun to be had all over the place, but it was a little less fun if you knew absolutely zero people here.

Darcy had moved through the crowd and headed for the place on the whole floor that had seemed the most interesting to her, while looking for Jane. The music here was a little less Halloween and a lot more cheesy 90s. Also, there was a table with bottles of whiskey, and there was a candy cotton machine, and Darcy loved candy cotton. And the whiskey.

Maybe she had liked the whiskey a bit too much, because after thirty minutes she was dancing by herself without a care in the world. She liked the old stuff that was on, and she had fun. She didn’t even particular care that some guys were very obviously watching her.

She had just stopped her dancing to get some more whiskey when the two guys actually approached her. One of them wore a … hairy costume and the guy next to him was clearly a vampire. Vampire-dude all pale and blond and really good looking - but he wore a somewhat troubled expression. Hairy-dude grinned at her. “Nice costume. Really cool green… stuff,” he waved his fingers around, pointing to her face.

Darcy frowned. He could be Sasquatch, but she doubted that. “You’re supposed to be a…  werewolf?” She tilted her head to the side a bit. Yeah, he even wore fake canines and yellow contact lenses. “Bit heavy on the facial hair, but nice costume yourself.”

“Thanks. The name’s Sam.” Then he placed his clawed hand on the other guys shoulder. “My friend here has a question for you though. Your costume really caught his eye…”

Darcy looked at the Vampire, who looked very exasperated at the werewolf. Only reluctantly did he turn his gaze to her. His contact lenses were the stereotypical crimson red, but it suited him. Very intense. If they’d ask her for a threesome now, she would totally be in.

“Are you a zombie?”

Her words. Darcy stared at the guy. Goddamn. So this year again?

One wouldn’t think how often people mistook you for a zombie in your life. But Darcy was a pragmatic person, and so had been her mother. Even back in kindergarten, she had made Darcy dress up as a zombie for Halloween, because she had figured that had to be where someone would ask her baby girl this question. And Darcy had been asked, but never had she given the right answer.

So there was an understandable moment of hesitation on her part, before her brain short-wired and she spit out the first thing that came to her mind. “Can a zombie dance the Macarena? Because I can.”

And with that, she took another swig from the whiskey bottle and slammed it back on the table. For a mere moment, she looked at the Vampire-dude, but if her words meant anything to him, he was pretty good at not showing it. He was just blinking, like he wasn’t getting her words. Aww, hell.

With a wink, Darcy turned around and headed back to the dance floor, to do just what she had said she would. Dance the Macarena, because the Macarena could make everything go away.

A part of her wasn’t even very surprised. She had not honestly expected these words to bet he right one. Not that she had actually tried. This time. Usually she tried to go with something more generic, like a simple ‚Yes’. But, well. Not tonight, it would seem.

“Hey, now, wait a second,” she heard werewolf-Sam call out behind her. Darcy pulled a face. This would be where she had to explain her reaction, probably. She was never good at keeping a straight face in these situations.

When she turned around, however, she found that Werewolf-Sam hadn’t even been talking to her. He was staring at his friend, who had grabbed the bottle of whiskey and was now drinking from it, like he really needed this. Werewolf-Sam continued talking. “What are you drinking for, you idiot. You can’t even get drunk. Talk to the zombie, dammit.”

Unlike Sam, the Vampire had noted that she had turned around again, as he lowered the bottle. He looked at her, and she looked back. The sam-guy followed the vampire’s eyes and then back and forth between her and his friend.

For a moment, there was only staring. “You said my words,” was all Vampire-dude said then.

Darcy’s reply was a shrug. Because, yeah, he had said hers too. But it seemed so unreal. Of all the things she had said, and all the scenes she had hoped for. “Figured. So… you can’t get drunk? Wanna pass me that bottle? Because I can.”

The werewolf groaned. “I can’t believe it. You two are hopeless. You deserve each other.” Then he threw his hands up, and stormed off, mumbling under his breath. “I need backup. Where the hell is Natasha.”

Darcy followed him with her eyes, before she looked back at the Vampire. “Is he always like this?”

Now, for the first time, his face seemed to move into a more relaxed expression. Less worried and tense. He actually smiled. “Yes, something like that. My name is Steve.”

He offered his hand to her, and she shook it, relieved that the awkward staring was over. And that he wasn’t running away. “Well, that’s great, because I was tempted to start calling you Edward any minute now. I’m Darcy.”

He nodded. “So,…” then he made a gesture, towards the dance floor. “I think you were offering Macarena?”


	5. To The Ripples Of Us (Werewolf/ABO!AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Posted August 6th 2015 to tumblr as part of the Omegaverse-week, though it's more of a werewolf!AU-thing. I never managed to finish it, but I had the graphics and two pages and liked it so far.

 

## “To the ripples of us”

 

 

I don’t have time to actually write the whole thing, but I have about two pages and a shitty graphic, so I’ll share them. Maybe I’ll get back to it someday ;)

  
She smelled him before she heard him. The smell of him raised the hairs in her neck, and she paused in her strides, looking up at the full moon

The first layer of him was a smell of gasoline, of cold steel, of gunpowder.  But that was the smell of a soldier, the smell that all of them carried. Every man in this part of the soviet territory smelled of these things.   
His own smell was different, more personal. It was the smell of old woods; of dirt under fingernails, of old leaves rotting, of dampness of heavy rain drenching every fibre of clothing and hair, of wildness and weariness, of dark caves and dark thoughts.

Yet beneath that smell of old woods was something different, that her instincts recognized immediately. This was what made her pause, not the smell of a mere man. Darcy had smelled too many men in her life to let one interrupt her hunting. But what he carried was fresh. There was the smell of someone approaching his first turning. Fear and Anger, pure Adrenaline, wolf and man and monster.

He was not of her blood, of her pack. It was dangerous to approach someone who was not of your pack, and not even of your kind. Especially someone who had the smell of war on him. Her kind did try to steer clear of war. Mindless killing was not their way. And yet… Darcy hesitated. Her eyes flashed to the moon yet gain.

She would go unnoticed. He had not yet turned. He would not smell nor hear her. Not even her mother could blame her this time for carelessly getting to close to a human again. No one would be endangered if she just took one look, right?

Her steps on the snow were light, and unheard, and she made sure to walk where fresh snow would cover her tracks later. And the she crouched down, as she drew closer to the bridge. She heard the sound of men calling, still far away. Someone was probably looking for him. But it would still take a while for them to find him.

He was lying there, unconscious, on his side. There was blood, he was hurt, but he would heal sooner than anyone would expect. His body had already started healing, or else he would have died already. He was quite large, for someone of her kind who was still unturned. She wondered. Was he packless? Why had ne not transitioned, like any of their kind did when they came of age? His uniform was blue. Not that of the soviet army. A foreigner. Enemy, they would call him. Would they kill him, of they found him?

His breathing changed. Darcy cocked her head to her side. He would wake soon. She could leave him here. If they found him, they would kill him. They would not find out about his nature. She could also take him. She was still considered a pub, by most. A teenager, by human standards. But she could take him. Carry him, for a time. Drag him, maybe, if needed.

She could hide him, in a cave. There was a turning cave nearby. She could hunt for him, feed him, provide for him. She could… take him in. It was her place. She would soon have to leave her pack, and she could start forming a new one.  Darcy’s muscles tightened in response to her thoughts, ready to leap up and run, or jump forward and grab him any moment. Her hands flexed and unflexed. Her pulse was raised.

A part of her hesitated. Her instinct told her to flee. Something was not right. He was unturned, and he was not a boy anymore. He should have had his first turning a long time ago. . Again, she sniffed for his smell.  

And that’s when she noted. The voices, the calling. They were not coming closer, they were leaving. They were not looking for him. It was almost unnoticeable, because someone had tried to cover it. But they had been here. He had been left. There was the feint smell of other of their kind. But why had they dropped him here? Humans did rarely come here. They told myths of this valley. It was cursed, they said. Old tales oft told, of ages gone by, of the monsters that lived here. Why drop him here?

And that’s when his breathing shifted again, into a groan. Darcy tensed, saw his eyelids flutter. The instant he opened his eyes, he looked at her. Darcy jumped up from her crouched position and ran.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea here is that Zola took Bucky to a lab, injected him with a serum, and left him. But the serum was a werewolf!serum, and he dropped him on purpose in a werewolf-territory. Most people don’t believe in weres, but they exist, and Zola is a believer, somehow. He hopes that they will take Bucky in an that through Bucky aka the Winter Wolf Programm, he can get a hold of a whole “force” of weres that he can use to do his biding. Only, it doesn’t work that way, though, because Bucky doesn’t just end up as the leader of a pack. He takes the Winter Wolf back and turns him int othe Winter Soldier, after Bucky looses his arm in a fight for leadership of the pack - with young Darcy here.
> 
> And as Werewolves have a fucking awesome lifespand (because of reasons) in the second part of the story Bucky runs into Darcy after his memory started returning. And so forth. Blabla. No idea if I will ever write that, though, but I do love some good werewolf fic everyonce in a while.


	6. The Storm Hunters (MadMax:FuryRoad!AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Posted October 6th 2015 to tumblr; A Fusion with Mad Max: Fury Road. In which some of the Marvel Universe is re-imagined into the Wastelands. (So in other words: it's darker and grittier now, with 200% more cars, guns and sand)

## 

## The Storm Hunters

Growing up in the wasteland, Darcy had spend all her life dreaming of rain. She remembered the days when her mother had tugged her in, telling stories of men dancing in the rain, singing lovesongs to their one true love.

There was too much sand in her throat these days to sing anymore, and Darcy had stopped believing in the concept of love the day the world took her mother from her, but there was one thing Darcy had not quite been able to stop believing in: rain. Because stopping to believe in the possibility of the rain returning meant stopping to believe in the possibility of surving. And that was something that no one could take from her.

That’s something that Jane and her had firmly shared from the beginning of this, when Darcy had first met her. They bothed _hoped_. 

There had just been something that they had acknowledged in each other from the first time their eyes met. Jane had once explained it to the guy that they had picked up along the road with his dog, Clint, that both of them were people who took every blow that this world had dealt them so far, and had still gotten up again.

If anything, Darcy would have said that it was the fact that both of them were lost souls. By the new rules of this world, both of them had started out as prey. No car, no bike, no nothing. 

Jane had grown up in a former military base, but after her father’s research had turned out to be failure, him and Jane had had to leave, and had been stranded on the road. 

Darcy… Darcy had spend most of her life as a normad with her family, going from one town to another, doing what they could. But her mum had become sick, and in this world, you earned your medicine. Darcy’s mum was a good woman, but being good, being truthful, being kind… that wasn’t the thing that paid off anymore. They hadn’t been able to earn the medicine, and Darcy had spent weeks watching her mother waisting away. 

But to her dying breath, Deborah Lewis had believed in the one thing. That one day, the sky would open, and the rain would return to this world, just like in that children’s song she had used to sing Darcy to sleep with.

For most of her life, it had just been that - a song. And then Darcy had met Jane, in the desert, both trying to figure out a way to survive. Jane, who had grown up knowing the sky, the stars and all things out there better than the parts of a car. 

When they had met, Darcy hadn’t known this. They had just been stuck in the same place, by coincidence. They had bothed been ‘collected’ off the road, and had been brought to a workers colony. Not that either of them had had any intention of remaining captives.

Darcy had been in the process of putting together a plan to steal a van and escape, actually, when they first really met. It had taken her weeks to figure out how to do it when she had become careless, and Jane had seen her stealing the keys. Jane had figured that she could either help her or stop her. Jane had opted for helping her, under the condition that she could come with her. If anything, Darcy had actually been relieved. Being alone was not something she liked. There was only so much you could talk about with yourself.

During their first night on the road - on the run - Darcy had started to sing the song her mother used to sing her, so she would keep awake and keep driving. Jane had offered up the tiny bit of information, that actually, did darcy know that this song was based on a legend? And that this legend was based on science? Because her father used to work on that. Her father was sure that this song was an instruction on how to ‘open the sky’. On how to bring back Thor, the deity of thunder and rain and fertility, so he could revitalize earth.

Darcy did not. But she figured that her mother might have known. Her grandmother had once been a history teacher, and had taught her mother everything she knew. Mythology had always been her mothers favourite part of history, though she had never been able to get darcy to share in her enthusiasm. Darcy had been more into … well, cars, and all things mechanical and electric, to be frank. Real things. 

But to her mother those legends had been just as real. So, yeah. If her mother knew the song, she probably had know the legend. Darcy knew for a fact that her mother had been sure that the sky would open again. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. 

And in her tired, half-asleep frame of mind, Jane had offered up that she was sure herself that it could be done. Her father had had it almost figured out, but he never got to finish it. 

Because there had been one component lacking to the whole thing, that was integral, and he had waited for it in vain. And that thing, as Jane explained, had been a storm, with lightnings, but where the mility base had been, there had never been any storm of that kind in all the years that Jane lived there. There had been sandstorms, but that was that. She wasn’t even sure if such storms existed anymore.

Looking back, Darcy couldn’t figure out how, for the life of her, this conversation about a children’s song had turned into something fundamentally different. Because she remembered the moment that it had hit her. How she had held her breath, and looked at Jane. “Where I grew up, there were some. If you had such a storm, do you think…. would you be able to recreate, what your father did?”

And that was it. That had been the night that Darcy and Jane became friends. And that’s the night they became Storm Hunters.

Their journey only started out that night, and there would be several people that they would met along the way, that would join their gang. But this night, driving and singing under the stars - this was the night that they kept remembering, when even they swayed in their believe for hope. 

Because this had been too much of a coincidence to be just a random encounter down the highways of their life. This, this meant something. Maybe someone had been watching them all their lifes, and fated them to meet each other. And maybe, just maybe, they were fated to bring it back. To bring back the rain to this world.

 


	7. If home is where the heart is (Star Wars! Crossover/Fusion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 of the Darcy Lewis Crossover Bingo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not read any Star Wars books to date. I’ve seen the movies, and I love them (all, by the way) to pieces, but I’m by no means actually very informed about canon background. That being said, there will me minor spoilers for “The Force Awakens” in this one. Very very minor.

**If home is where the heart is (then we're all just fucked)**

* * *

 

Darcy was used to nightmares. She had always had them; the kind that shook you to your core and seemed to sit in the corner of your heart, that pulled it tighter and made it hard to breath. Even if she could not always remember what her dreams were about, she always knew that there was something about her dreams. Something real.

Of course, nobody of the people she belonged to had bought into that. Some slaves were known to try and diminish their worth by obscure means – faked illnesses, faking a connection to the force, randomly attacking people, you name it.

That had never been her thing, though. From her childhood on Darcy had known, that if she ever really would try to get away or get free, she would do so by her own means. Not some backhanded tactics. And certainly not via dreams.

And she had, hadn’t she? She had done it. It had taken her a while, but as a teenager she had proofed herself to be really good with androids, and sneaky, and brave and a group of smugglers had taken her on. Of course, there was the small matter of her technically belonging to someone else, but it’s not like smugglers cared much for the law now, did they.

As long as Darcy was willing to fly under the radar and work diligently, she was welcome to become a part of their crew. As dishonest and untrustworthy as smugglers were by nature, they were… well, a somewhat-honest bunch with their own moral codex. Never trust them with anything, but trust them with that.

In turn, they had grown to trust Darcy, too. When she had formed her own rag-tag-team of female scavengers and smugglers, she had already had earned her place in their community. The name Darcy was worth something – even if to most people, she was known as Neza Zaptros, the pain in the ass of the republic, the new order…. You name it.

Her crew of people were her new family and she never would never have exchanged them for anything. But even they did not know what it was that woke their young captain at most nights. What had her screaming, gasping for air, and crying out for a Jane in the middle of the night.

None of them knew of her dreams, of being soaked to the bone, of lightning and all-engulfing black space. Of death. There was no doubt in her mind that those dreams were dreams of her own death. There was no mistaking that feeling of choking, and of that taste of regret. Or her own, cynical voice, mumbling somewhere like an echo in her mind, that she was not dying for six college credits.

She had not shared the knowledge of those dreams with anyone aside from one friend. The one girl whom she had considered family first, until that girl had refused to come with her, when she had left with the smugglers that day.  
Rey.

Darcy had a faint inkling of why Rey had refused her back then, as teenagers. She had never held it against her; at least not really. She knew Rey’s demons as well as she knew her own. Part of Rey had always believed that she was better than the other orphaned kids – that she was not truly orphaned. That someday someone would come for her.

As a kid, Darcy had envied her that knowledge, that trust. Only a couple of years ago, when she had once more returned to Jakku and tried to recruit Rey in her crew had she realized that this knowledge was not only something to hold on to , it was also a weight on Rey that held her down. Darcy knew a thing or two about weights.

But there was nothing she could do about Rey’s weights, frankly speaking, so Darcy had made sure to ditch that horrible place again quickly. She was a smuggler, a space pirate maybe, but not some sort of charity. She had a responsibility to her crew, didn’t she.

A part of her, though, felt guilty. They had grown up together, shared food together, kept each other from freezing at night. Maybe she had never tried hard enough to persuade Rey to join her.

So technically, Darcy was not surprised that Rey, too, would become a figure of her many nightmares. A regret that felt as bitter as the echo of that name – Jane – in her mind. She closed her eyes, and tried to will the memories of the dreams away, like she had done so many times.

“Darce?”

Only that now … now, wasn’t she awake? Why was she still…

“Darcy?”

Darcy flinched, and looked up. No one was there. She pinched her own arm, and felt the pain. This was a new kind of nightmare.

“Darcy?!”

Again, she heard the echo of that voice – whose was it?  – and she felt coldness, and salt on the tip of her tongue, and pain. An unbearable pain.

Again, Darcy flinched – jolted from the captain’s chair that she must have fallen asleep in. Only that she wasn’t so sure anymore if she had really slept. She moved herself to the consoled, and changed the direction they had been flying on for the last three days.

To her right, her self-built android, beeped at her, questioningly.

“I don’t know where we’re going, Mew Mew. I just know that we have to go there. I just… “ she paused, and looked at the android. “… there’s a pull. I can’t explain it. But we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Mew Mew beeped happily. Of course he was happy, that little shit. He always had too much of a taste for adventure.

Then again, so had Darcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is kind of ‘reborn’ into this universe - so she is Darcy of Thor, but also a new sort of Force-sensitive Darcy - maybe future!Jedi, maybe not. And a space-pirate. Because I can.


	8. Across the silent sands (MadMax:FuryRoad!Au - Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of that previous chapter; this is the entry for number 20/day 2 of the crossover bingo.   
> Taking place roughly 3 months after that first part, after Darcy and Jane picked up Clint and his dog from the roadside.

**(and rise with me forever) Across the silent sands**

* * *

 

Her finger on the trigger was starting to ache from the position it was in. Any moment now it would twitch, and she would blow that parrot-brain’s head off. It was sheer willpower that she hadn’t done it yet. That, and the voice of reason in her brain, that sounded suspiciously like her own damn dead mother.

Because screw the rifles pointed at her own head, she would gladly go down if it meant to get revenge for that lying liars lies. That fucking asshole whom they had wasted gas on when they had picked him and his stupid dog up and allowed them to come with them, in their van. That damn charmer who had gained their trust and who was now about to steal their equipment – and worse, their stories.

But thing was, their rifles were not only pointed at her, kneeling on the roof of their van. They were also pointed at Jane’s pretty face behind the wheel. And though Darcy wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t risk getting her own brains blown up just to get justice for a change, for once in her life, she absolutely couldn’’t allow them to risk Jane’s. 

Let them take their stuff, let him take their knowledge and the pain they had paid with for those stories, let them even take their van and thereby return them to prey again – but as long as Jane was around, there was hope. Somewhere in Jane’s fantastic brain was the key to a future filled with rain and prosperity and life. 

It made her gnash her teeth together at the injustice, it made her eyes burn withseething anger and it made her dry throat raps with swallowed down curses, but despite everything, she would absolutely not risk Jane.  
And the fucker knew that.

He stood there, with his damn dog at his side along with a whole gang of people just waiting for a sign from him to shoot the crazy girl with the M-16. But his arrow was pointed at Jane. The only thing here that was truly worth something.

But there was no crazy, triumphant smile. No sign on his face that he enjoyed this knowledge at all. If anything, Darcy’d almost say that he looked sorry that it had come down to this.

Maybe he really was. There was reason that parrot-brain had endeared himself to them in the past three months on the road, that they had allowed him to stay with them so long: Clint had seemed like a genuinely decent guy. He had been a bit crazy, a bit secretive, but who in the wasteland wasn’t? And his kind of crazy was the good kind. The joyful kind, the hopeful kind. He had seemed genuinely on-board with their plan to bring back the rain.

Then again, now that she knew that he worked for them, she wouldn’t be too surprised to hear that they trained their people in mindfuckery like that.

And then it was that guy next to parrot-brain who moved. He lowered his weapon. And held up his palms, in a gesture of surrender. Barton had called him Phil, greeting him with a gesture of familiarity. So Barton was able to be a _real_ friend, huh?

“Please, ladies. We dislike doing this situation as much as you do. Barton says that both of you would be an asset to our group, and I believe him on this. So if you would just put down your weapons and come with us, we might be able to work out an arrangement that is beneficial to all of us.”

Darcy snorted. “Beneficial, my ass.” Never again would she be held prisoner, by anyone. She had seen what was done to people who stopped being an asset to any group. Her mother hadn’t been an asset to anyone, so they had let her die. She had fought so that she could be free of any gang. And whoever the fuck they even were, ‘ _The Initiative_ ’, they would be no different.

“What are our options here?” Jane screamed, to the open door where Barton had jumped out of the Van as soon as his people had them surrounded. Fucking parrot-brained traitor. “Come with you or be killed?”

“No. We would give you time to consider our offer. If you turn over your equipment peacefully, we will let both of you go. Our group does not condone senseless killings. Of course, we would prefer it if you came with us. While we do have brilliant scientists at our home base, we would like to work together with you, Miss… Foster, was it? Barton has spoken highly of your astrophysical knowledge.”

“How fucking nice of him,” Darcy barked out a laugh. “What a generous gesture: praising the people that he’s handing over to a killing commando. Real nice of him.”

Barton sighed a sigh of exasperation. Like when he had woken up in the morning to find that Darcy had drawn on his face. Or when Darcy and Jane had taught his dog to play dead when someone said ‘hungry’ – which Barton said a lot. Or when she had called him a baby when he whined over the tiniest scratch.

Again, Darcy became aware of the ache of her finger on the trigger.

“Dammit, Darcy. Nobodies killing anyone. As long as you’re not going mad here. We just need these machines. Didn’t you say you believed in a better future? We’re working on that. We’re working on that future, on ending this anarchy. We try to be the good guys, you know. That’s why we need this stuff. Don’t be such a baby and just _come with us_.”

How dared he throwing her own words back at her. The words she had said when they had picked him up. Darcy growled. 

“We won’t. There’s no way in hell we’ll come with you and work with you. So you’ll have to kill us and go through us to get to this stuff,” Jane screamed, and Darcy was sure that Jane took this as personal as she did. But Jane was also very willing to go through with this. To risk her pretty brain. 

And no – Darcy wasn’t a baby. Darcy wanted to scream at the injustice of this world, but a part of her wanted to laugh. Why was she still so surprised over how things went in this world? Nothing had ever been  easy in their life. The strong had always taken from the weak.

With an angry huff, Darcy lowered the riffle and in one very angry move threw it on the ground next to the van. And then she slid down, letting herself fall down next to her riffle. Nobody aside from her had moved, but Darcy was now next to the door, and she could see Jane’s disbelieving stare. “Darcy?” It was barely a whisper.

She raised her hands, and her chin, imitating the gesture of that Phil-guy. “Let them take the stuff Jane. We’ll restart. From scratch. We’ve managed before, we’ll manage again. It’s not worth dying for.” Her words hat been quiet, but they were hanging in the hot air. The taste of defeat was an ugly one indeed.

For a moment, there was silence. And then Darcy heard the other door of the driver’s side being pushed open, and Jane sliding out. She looked at her from the corner of her eyes, briefly. There was a wild defiance in Jane’s face, an it was obviously paining her to do this, but she, too raised her hands.

Phil looked relieved, as he now lowered his hands. “Thank you. It’s not what we hoped for, but I understand that you might feel a little unhappy with our method right now. Hopefully we will meet again under more fortunate situations – and hopefully you will reconsider our offer until then.” 

He made a gesture with his hands, and some of his men lowered their weapons, and moved to the van.

Darcy remained silent, as she heard them go through their stuff, and carry everything they deemed worthy from their little van to their big truck. It could only have been a couple of minutes, but it felt like ages before all of them seemed to be done, and returned to their truck.

Only Barton lingered for a moment. Then he pulled something from one of his pockets, and threw it at Darcy’s feet. It was … a zippo?

“It’s how I kept in contact with Phil. It’s some sort of mobile radio. If you’re within reach, you can contact us. In case you change your mind about joining.” And then, after a moment of hesitation, he added, “I really am sorry that it came to this.”

And then he turned, and strutted of, Lucky at his side. Neither of them looked back (even the dog was a traitor). 

But Darcy and Jane kept where they were, until the black truck with the giant Eagle on top was out of sight. And then, Darcy just sunk down, into the desert sand, next to her M-16. Jane came over to her, and sat down next to her, leaning against their tire of their van.

“You really think we can start again? You still think there’s … hope, for this?” Jane’s voice was quiet, and her tone flat. 

Darcy closed her still burning eyes. “Not right now, I don’t. But give it some time. It’ll come back.”

Darcy couldn’t bring herself to move, or to look at Jane, or do anything. Not even move out of the uncomfortably hot sun. It was Jane who moved first. She brushed the sand off her knees, and got back up. Then she held out a hand to Darcy. “At least without Barton and Lucky our food supply will hold up for thrice the time that it did before.”

Darcy managed a chuckle, as she took Jane’s hand and the M-16 in the other and allowed Jane to pull her up. Then, after a moment of consideration, she even snatched up the lighter. “Yeah. That’s something, isn’t it. And no more snoring at night.” Then she climbed back into the van as Jane walked over to the driver’s side, and got back in.

She started the motor, and got the Van back to the route they had taken before Barton had led them here with a promise of an old friend with supplies. As they reached the road, Jane spoke up again.“You were right, you know. To surrender. I was just…. So angry. I just was ready to claw their eyes out, no matter what. I didn’t really think at that moment. But you were right. Staying alive was more important.”

Darcy shrugged, and pushed one hand through her messy hair. “Well, it does make our work a bit easier. Rebuilding this storm hunting station will be hard, but coming back from death would have been such a pain.” 

Jane laughed weakly, and shook her head. “Yeah, it would have been.” Then she paused. “So it’s just us again, huh.”

“Jep. Just us. Back to square one. But we’ll figure something out.”

  
“Of course we will,” Jane’s eyes were trained on the road. But she sounded determined.

Darcy smiled, but said nothing.

It was this. This hint of determination, this little bit of hope that Jane managed to cling to even now, that she had protected back there. That was her top priority. Vengeance always came with a price too steep than to really be worth it. But at one point, she would get back at Barton, and his Initiative, she mused, as she let the zippo twirl through her fingers. 

Barton would regret the day he had met them, and given them the key to find his stupid secret gang base. There were hunting storms right now, but the day would come that she’d hunt that parrot-brain down, and there’d be hell to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from: Far From Any Road – The Handsome Family   
> (Oh, and sorry, no hate on Clint. But he's just doing his job here. And Darcy is very protective with very few things left to loose - and he's taking one of these things.)


	9. Boy I get so tipsy (StarTrek:DS9!Crossover)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 of the Crossover Bingo; In which i throw some characters into the DS9 Universe. This takes place before the whole dominion war thing. At no specific point of the show, though.

 

**Boy I get so tipsy (with you on my mind)**

* * *

 

‘Ah, there he comes,’ Darcy thinks to herself and holds her cup to her lips, sipping the strong liquor to hide the grin crawling up her face. She allows herself to linger on the hilarious, wonderful expression of confusion on Sam Wilson’s face. Then, as she lowers the cup again, she turns away, and gives Quark a sign that she is in need for a refill.

Of course, it’s hard not to glance over her shoulder and watch his every move, but she couldn’t give herself away so easily now, could she? Let’s just wait and see what that self-proclaimed ‘Falcon’ of a Pilot will make of the situation. He’d better rise to the challenge.

Quark eyes her, as he fills her up, and looks around; he has suspicion written all over his face. “You’re up to something, Lieutenant. You’re all grinning. And Jadzia’s been sitting over there acting strange for the past hour.” He states. And then, with a shake of his head, he adds, “I don’t like it.”

Darcy shrugs, and winks at him. With a scowl, Quark moves on.

True, the last time she had put together one of her little schemes here, aided by Jadzia, it had resulted in a massive brawl and a couple of tables got smashed. She and Jadzia had done a lot of the smashing, too. Quark has reasons to worry. But for once it’s indeed not one of her usual schemes.

Because Jadzia is not in on it yet – not fully. She has no idea that Darcy just so happened to have set her up on a Blind Date with Lieutenant Wilson. She thinks she’s doing Darcy a favor here, with a lost bet. Wilson doesn’t even know that this is date at all. He just knows that his presence here is demanded by an ‘anonymous benefactor’.

Ah, the things she does for a friend. What a pity that she doesn’t get to see the expression on their faces when each found out that they were here to meet each other.

But even if she and Jadzia went way back, there is just… a line to draw, and that line is in being around to receive the beating for the unasked-for favors that you did. Not that Jadzia would be very angry with her for long. She’d probably have asked Wilson herself out sooner or later. It was entirely for Wilson’s benefit that Darcy has taken matters into her own hands and sped things up.

Nobody knows how long it would be before their ship would come by DS-9 the next time. It had been almost six month between this visit and the last, and Wilson had been seriously annoying her with his whining about dying old and lonely, because Captain Rogers always had all eyes on him as soon as they landed somewhere.

It remdinded Darcy a bit of the infamous Captain Kirk. Back in the academy the upper-classmen had told them all the crazy stories about the captain and his captain’s log. It was quite infamous among cadets, because it was so wildly made up. Kirk must have been really bored when he dictates these stories to the computer, and one simply had to wonder how he ever made it to admiral.

But Captain Rogers and his USS Freedom could maybe give Kirk a run for his money. Wilson was not really exaggerating that Rogers drew the attention of anyone around him on himself – regardless of gender, sex or species.

Darcy couldn’t blame them. He’s tall, he’s handsome, he’s young, he’s kind and he’s smart – she was really into smart, even if she wasn’t into her Captain like that. But she could totally see why he could give even a guy like Wilson complexes, and Wilson was quite stacked and smart himself. And unlike Rogers, Wilson knew how to flirt.

As if on cue, Darcy hears Jadzia laugh out loudly, and she can’t help but at least steal a glance over her shoulder. Jadzia seems comfortable, and Wilson is maybe … god, is the man blushing? Leave it to Jadzia to find anyone’s weak spot. She’ll so later ask for details.

Darcy grins, and again motions to Quark.

She points over her shoulder with her thumb. “Bring those two lovebirds some of your strongest, ‘kay?” Quark follows her thumb, and scowls. Darcy has always had the sneaking suspicion that Quark has a thing for Jadzia. Which is wildly out of character considering that his people liked their women naked and obedient. And big-eared.

“You’re a menace, Lewis,” he barks at her, but gets to work. For a moment, as Darcy notes that he keeps eyeing Jadzia and Sam, Darcy wonders if maybe it was a bad idea to make send him over with the drinks. It was totally not above Quark to linger and ruin the mood. Or, you know, worse.

Should she warn Wilson? Captain Rogers would so not forgive her if she’s somehow involved in Sam getting poisoned. Sam’s his favorite. And, worst of all, he’s Nat’s favourite. No one should mess with the head of security. The thought alone makes a shiver run down Darcy’s spine.

Before she can think this trough, though, someone slipped unto the chair next to her. “Barely here for a day and already giving Quark an ulcer. Some things just don’t change.”

Darcy’s whole face lights up, as she spins around in her chair, and is faced with the good doctor, Julian Bashin himself. Just another fine looking man on the list of people that could Wilson a run for his money. “I aim to please,” she intones dramatically, with an exaggerated mock-bow, and Julian laughs. Darcy has always liked his laughs. It is warm, and remarkably carefree, considering the line of work he is in and where he is stationed.

Seeing Jadzia again really is only one of the reasons that Darcy herself always looks forward to her next visit to DS9. Julian Bashir might be just a little bit higher than Jadzia even, gals before guys be damned. It helped, of course, that he is good friends with Jadzia. Though, from what Darcy’s heard, Julian’s been aiming for more than friends there, for a while. Usually, she tries not to dwell on that thought, but considering her most recent scheme …

She looks over to where Jadzia and Wilson are eyeballing each other, and then to Julian. “Talking of pleased. How displeased are you with me and my shenanigans right now?”

Of course Julian has no trouble following her line of thinking. He looks over to the table, and then … groans. “She told you?” and then, before Darcy could say something, he shook his head. “Of course she told you. That woman simply cannot keep her mouth shut.”

His annoyed expression prompts Darcy to take a sip from her cup. Not because she needs it – quite the contrary. She felt relieved, and that relief prompts her to drink. She should not feel relieved, for fucks sake. Her crush is turning a bit pathetic here.

She decides to cover it up by prodding his feeling of inadequacy, instead of her own. “She didn’t actually have to tell me, you know. It’s not like you made much of a secret of your … infatuation. And you know how we ship-crews like to gossip, when a journey takes a little bit longer. The space is so vast and lonely… “ She winks at him, and shrugs. She doesn’t need him to feel too pathetic, though. “Seriously, though. I could tell you much more worthwhile gossip than you crushing on Jadzia. Jadzia is totally crush-worthy.”

Julian nods his agreement. “While you will not hear me say otherwise, do let’s talk about something less of a kick to my ego, alright?”

He leans over, and takes her cup from her. He glances at the pale-green liquid and sniffs at it. His expression morphs into one of utter disgust. “For example why you’re drinking this horrid brew. Did I not tell you of that fine whiskey that I managed to replicate? It is sitting untouched in a shelf and you have yet to even taste it. I should be quite offended, really.”

Darcy makes a point of taking the cup back from with a little too much force and a dramatically offended expression on her face. “And remember telling you not to be such a snob. See, you’re a doctor, not a liquor epicurean.” She took another sip, and licked her lips, before she decided that he could handle a little bit more mockery. He all but asked for it. “Don’t hate on my choice of liquor, and I won’t judge your taste in holosuit-entertainment, okay.”

Now Julian looks at her truly bewildered. And then he hides is face in his hands, with a shamefull laugh. Oh yeah, doctor. Darcy knows all about you little hero-fantasies. “She really tells you everything, doesn’t she.” He glances up at her between his fingers.

If Darcy looks a bit smug it is absolutely justified. She flips her hair over her shoulder, and winks at Julian. “What can I say? It’s hard to resist my charm if I want to know something.”

This has Julian lowering his hands again, and leaning a little bit closer – a little bit unexpectedly. His eyes were totally fixated on her, and weirdly intense. It was very had to focuse on his face, though, because his invasion of her personal space made her weirdly aware of his … aftershave. Damn. Or was she just getting tipsy already? “Oh. You wanted to know about my holosuit-favourites and my infatuations then? Why not just ask me?”

Darcy blinked. Oh shoot that damn man and his incredibly quick wit. He was way too quick to pick up on things. She stalls, empties her cup. “You forget who you’re talking to. I’m always eager to have blackmail-material at hand. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He snickers. Yeah, of course he isn’t buying it. Jadzia hasn’t bought it either. “If you say so. So what are you going to demand from me for your silence, then?”  
Darcy blinked. What a dirty tone that man could have in his voice, if he wanted to. What a flirt he was. Pff. “I’ll think of something.”

He laughed. “And while you do that, you’ll have a glass of whiskey with me. No arguing. It’s on doctors orders.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For jadziabear, who writes the best crossovers and who appreciates Julian Barnes like he should be appreciated ;)  
> Title taken from: Whiskey by Marian Hill (which is a really good song, btw).  
> Random note: Jadzia and Sam. I ship it. Maybe even together with Nat. Not sure about that yet. But damn.  
> (And that doesn't mean I don't like Worf/Jadzia. Because I do.)


	10. There are things that drift away (JupiterAscending!Crossover)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 of the Darcy Lewis Crossover Bingo.  
> In which Darcy knows someone named Jupiter, but is pretty sure that - nope, she's not Hydra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, don’t judge. Jupiter Ascending was a horrible movie, I agree with you. But from the moment they had James D’Arcy on the screen (as Jupiter Jones father) I just knew I had to make a crossover. Also, let’s be honest – in this universe, whatever you do, it can’t get any more out of there. That’s very liberating. So, what do you need to know? Nothing. This takes place after Jupiter Ascending happened and you need to know nothing whatsover about the movie aside from the fact that Jupiter’s father looks like Jarvis and died before she was born.

**There are things that drift away (like our endless, numbered days)**

* * *

 

Being called to the Avengers Conference Room was a bit weird. She had been seated at the head of the table, and other end of the table sat Natasha freaking Romanoff, going through a file. Next to her was the woman who had hired her for Jane’s lab, Maria Hill. 

Internally, Darcy wondered if any of them had discovered her browser history and if she was now getting a spanking, or something. Also – who else was going to come, what were they waiting for? She swiveled in her chair, until finally the door was pushed uoen and Tony Stark swaggered into the room.

He greeted her with a salute. “Morning, Lab-monkey.” He flopped down into a chair, and made a gesture to Hill. “The stage is yours.”

Hill didn’t need to be asked twice. She got up and pulled a small remote from the pocket of her blazer. A floating screen was projected into the air behind her upon a push of a button. It was thebird-view of a city. Before Darcy could try and see which city, Hill turned her attention on Darcy.

“Miss Lewis. You stated in your personal information that you were born and raised in Chicago. You lived there until you were ten with your father. Is that correct?” 

Her tone did hardly sound like she needed confirmation, but Darcy nodded anyway. “Yep. Is this what this is about? Do you plan a holiday I Chicago and need some tourist advise?”

Hill chose to ignore Darcy’s question. She raised one hand to the screen and pressed something, and the view of the city was pushed back. Instead, a picture of a twenty-something young woman was on screen. “Is it correct that you grew up in the same house as a girl named Jupiter Jones, with whom you remain in friendly contact?”

The girl on the picture was seen walking down a street with a guy with sunglasses and a hoodie, looking like she was perfectly content with life. It was Jupiter alright, though Darcy hadn’t seen her for at least two years. The last time had been after the stunt in New Mexico.

“Erm, yeah? We were best friends as kids, but we kind of lost touch. We skype sometimes, though, and meet up when I come to town for the holidays to visit my gran. Her mother makes one mean Lángos. Why are you asking me that?”

Why the hell would the Avengers be interested in someone like Jupiter of all people? The most out-of-ordinary thing about her was her name, for fucks sake.

Again, Hill seemed adamant to only hear the barest necessity of what Darcy was saying. She zoomed in on the guy. The hoodie overshadowed a lot of his face, but it could not hide his broad frame. “Do you know who this man with your friend is?”

Darcy shrugged. “Her boyfriend, I guess? She mentioned that he’s packed. The name’s Cain, I believe. Tell me what’s going on, though. This is becoming a bit creepy.” This was starting to feel a bit like an interrogation. 

With a nod, Hill went back to her chair and sat down. “We have reason to believe that Jupiter Jones might have involved herself with HYDRA. We want you to go and visit her, and bring Agent Romanoff along as your friend Natia from work, so we can handle this matter discreetly.”

Darcy blinked. A couple of times. Then she burst out in a bubble of laughter. “Oh my god, that was a good one. Jupiter and HYDRA. Brilliant.” She stopped, when she noted that no one else was laughing. She couldn’t keep the grin off her face and shook her head. “People, honestly. You don’t need to check that. You’ll hardly find someone who’d be less inclined to work for HYDRA.”

Stark looked bored at her exclamation, Romanoff was still going through that file as if the whole conversation didn’t pertain to her in any way, and Hill looked very unimpressed with Darcy. 

Again she pressed a button on the romote. The city from before was visible. Now it zoomed in, and Darcy recognized that it was the neighborhood she had grown up in, in Chicao. The zoom wen in further, until it was on the building that Jupiter lived in.

“We came across this in our surveillance of the building,” Hill explained.  
And there was Jupiter, coming on the roof. It was apparently the still of a video feed, that now started running. Jupiter was next to the man from before, only that he was without glasses.

Jupiter put something on her feet that looked like roller blades, they kissed, and suddenly, … they vanished. Darcy’s eyes immediately went to the time and frame not at the top of the video feed. There was no time loop, or anything. Just… one moment to the next, they were gone. “Huh.”

“Yes, ‘Huh’. This is clearly advanced technology that masks your friend. The likes of which we have only seen in Asgardian Technology – and research that Hydra did in the 50s.”

Stark piqued up. “And also my father, but he never went far with it.”  
Hill rolled her eyes. “Yes, Also Stark. Another thing that we find interesting is that the families debts were miraculously paid off a few weeks ago. The transaction happened in the name of a Edit Jones, supposedly Jupiter’s paternal grand-grandmother – who died 1990. “

Darcy rubbed her chin, and bit her tongue. Then she shook her head. “Yeah, okay, let’s roll back for a moment. Why again were you having her under surveillance? You said you just so happened to run across this scene. Surely you don’t monitor everybodies bank accounts, so that can’t have clued you in. Or do you just do a general surveillance of every roof in America?”

This whole thing felt very wrong. Jupiter was as commonplace as Darcy was, so whatever she had just seen? There had to be a good explanation for Jupiter being caught up in it. Darcy would know a thing or two about getting tangled in other people’s supernatural mess, she was not the one to judge, okay?

“That was my doing,” the black widow said – finally looking up for the file. She stood up and went to the screen, where she paused the feed, and pulled something else on. 

A picture pf a man in his fourties, and a woman in her … middle thirtees, maybe? “These are James and Daisy Jones, two former SHIELD-special-agents. Both died in 1988, when they were involved in a classified special mission in Russia.”

Another handmotion from from Natasha. Two more pictures appeared. One next to the woman, one beneath the man. The picture on the right Darcy knew. That was the guy that Captain America had brought into the building a few weeks prior. “The Winter Soldier was send by Hydra to take them out. We discovered this information only recently, and as per request by James Barnes, we tried to check on the only son they left behind.”

“That would be this guy,” Tony spoke up, pointing at the picture beneath James Jones. “Maximilian Jones, your girlfriend’s father. Who, by the by, was also killed by Hydra before your friend was even born.”

Darcy shook her head. “Wait, what? No! Jupiter’s father was killed… in an armed robbery… er… no, okay, continue.” Her words had become progressively slower and quieter, until she realized that her objection was a bit, well, stupid. Of course HYDRA would mask it.  “Why, though? Why kill the guy? Jupiter said he was an Astronomy Professor.”

Natasha nodded slightly. “A question that we were looking into. They might have assumed that he was following in his parents footsteps. Which he had not, but HYDRA could have been unaware of that. What gave them reason to think so, though, is something that we are still investigating.”

Stark was seemingly now getting a bit impatient. “Yeah, so, another funny coincidence here? James Jones was recruited into SHIELD by Agent Peggy Carter and by my father personally. Because he just so happened to have been the nephew of Edwin Jarvis, my father’s buttler.”

Darcy shook her head, and tried to wade through the mass of information thrown at her. “Jarvis? Like your computer system? Like … Vision’s former form-Jarvis?”

“Yep,” Stark said, popping the p. He looked none too happy. “The man never had kids, but he was fond of his nephew. So I’m kind of doing him a favour in trying to clear the mess that his nephew’s grandchild got in. Or something. Details.” He waved his hand around. 

Natasha took over again. She looked at Darcy, with a very serious expression. “You see that at least three people here – you, Stark and Barnes – are interested in proofing that girl is not, in fact, in any way associated with HYDRA. But to proof that we need your help to help us.

Darcy bit her cheek, and fowned. Sweet baby Thor. What was her life even? Everyone was a secret agent now, or something. And now they asked her to investigate her firned. Spy on her friend, really. They aksed her to play spy with the super-spy. Then, with a groan, she nodded.

“Oh, fine. I think it’s a waste of time, but as long as you guys are paying for the whole trip, and I still get paid, I don’t mind visiting her. I haven’t seen her for a while.” Then she pointed at the Black Widow. “But you better be nice to her family! Don’t ruin my reputation of having an excellent friend radar, okay?”

Romanoff smiled. “As long as Jones doesn’t ruin that reputation, I won’t.”

“Great,” Stark clapped his hands. “A fieldtrip for Lewis and Romanoff. What a blast. I assume I won’t be needed anymore, then. You know my credit card number.”

Hill got up as well. “Lewis, you best contact your friend and your grandmother and let them know that you and Romanoff will be coming with the first flight tomorrow.”

Darcy nodded. “Can do.”

A paid trip to Chicago with her new bestie ‘Natia’. What a time to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Passing Afteroon by Iron and Wine


	11. I'll find my way (ASOIAF!Crossover)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 of the Darcy Lewis Crossover Bingo.  
> In which Darcy ends up in Westeros by... er... magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One Day I shall write a serious ASOIAF/MCU-Fusion-Story, with thousands of words and all the houses. This is not that day. Instead, you get a humerous, wink wink, “crossover” that probably doesn’t even deserve that moniker. While the story should be self-explanatory, let me say as much in advance: really do not try and make sense of this. This is for shits and giggles, and there’s no seriousness involved.

**I'll find my way (to you, somehow)**

* * *

 

Sometimes Darcy wasn’t sure if they really were the ‘good guys’. Shit always happened to the Avengers and anyone associated with them; and it was usually some big shit. If Karma was a real concept, the amount of bad karma had to be so damn huge that they couldn’t possibly be the good guys – all of them were being punished for something.

Or it was all just a really twisted cosmic joke. Like the one where the person who was the most untrusting of Magic of all people in the tower became a … yeah, what exactly? The play toy of a spiritual being (or Alien) with ridiculous powers who had decided to ‘ _teach the Anthony a lesson_ ’. And now all of them had to suffer.

Though right now, Darcy would argue that she suffered the most. She pushed and pulled at the fabric of the dress she was in, but it didn’t become any more comfortable. “This sucks. I hate cosets.” She had been trying to loosen it, but somehow she really wasn’t gifted with this kind of stuff.

“Here it is, Lewis! I found it!” Stark called out to her. “Come over with that candle of yours.”

Darcy sighed, and moved from the window to the old wooden table, upon which a pile of books had been placed by servants a while ago.

Servants that had woken her up earlier with a pretty “Miss Darceline, your father requests your presence in his study.” Seing that her father was kind of dead, and seing that she didn’t remember falling asleep in the middle ages, Darcy had been weary what to expect.

She had certainly not expected to find Tony, of all people, in a fancy black coat and fur draped over his shoulders – being addressed as ‘ _Lord_ Stark’. It didn’t help that he was just as clueless as she as to what was going on. But growing up a rich kid, he had been much quicker on the uptake and utilized the servants. He had asked them already about his schedule for the day, and to bring him books on the family, and history books.

She and Stark had been going through them for at least an hour now, but turned up blank. It was certainly interesting, but so far not much of it had helped them understand where they were. Darcy was certain it was not England, or …. even Europe, probably. Which was good to know, but it didn’t exactly help them understand this…. mess, or trial or whatever it was. Why had this spirit being thing brought them here? Where was this? Or …. When?

Now Stark had opened one of the biggest tomes on the table, and before him, on two pages, was a family tree. Stark tapped his finger aggressively – or excitedly – on one spot on a page, that Darcy now tried to illuminate.

  
She read out the words atop the page, next to a sigil with a wolves head. “The most noble House of Stark of Westeros, Lords of Winterfell, Wardens of the North.” And beneath it, in a more delicate font, it said… “Winter is coming,” Darcy intoned with appropriate amusement. “What are these people? Weather frogs?”

“ _Us_ people, you mean,” Stark said gleefully. Again, his index finger tapping a certain spot.

Darcy blinked. Indeed, there was… her name. Except that she was called Darceline. “Wait a sec,” Darcy demanded, pushing Stark over, so she could read the incredibly tiny font. She had had no glasses when she had woken up in the strange bed chambers and she was far-sighted, dammit.

Stark, as impatient as ever, started to read aloud. “Lord Antonius Stark, son of Howard Stark, younger son of Edwyle Stark – who names their child Edwyle, for fucks sake -  and Maria Martell. That makes that Eddard - with whom I am apparently going to ride out for a hunt later, according to that servant -  when he returns from … ‘judging a crow’. Though that doesn’t make more sense than before, if he’s no professional bird hunter.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “As if that’s the only thing not making sense here.”

“Right. We should create a list of things we need to figure out. But don’t distract me, Lewis!”

“You started to rant about bird watching!”

“Whatever. This Lord Eddard is my cousin. Good to know. And since there’s a little crown-sign next to his name, I guess that means he’s the owner of the castle. And see? You’re there too. Apparently, you’re Darceline Snow. And it seems you are my bastard, or at least there’s no mother.”

Darcy growled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why do you get to keep your lastname? I hate snow. I’m more of a summer person. Besides, why do you seem so happy about this? We’re in a damn book of a world that is _so_ not our own. People think they’ve known us for forever.  Isn’t this all kind of creepy to you? Because it is damn well too me.”

Stark swatted at her. “Calm your tits, Lewis. Think of this as one of your computer games. Just very… real. The future of computer games will be like this, I’d bet. I mean, doesn’t this whole place remind you a bit of Skyrim?” He grinned up at her.

Darcy just rolled her eyes. “You should be the one freaking out here. This supernatural sorceress spirit wants to teach _you_ something with this, not me. And besides, _I_ was on board with the whole magic thing from the first. You’re the infidel. This whole world of no-tech and magic is probably meant to be your personal living hell, young padawan.”

For a moment, Tony seemed to consider her words. Then he shrugged. “Yeah well. I don’t know. Foster can send people to other worlds as well. I still don’t see how this place should win me over to the dark side. But let’s just figure out where that sorceress send the others and then we can go and learn my lesson.” He pointed at one of the other books. “There are more family trees in that one. Make yourself useful, daughter dearest.”

“I have such bad karma,” Darcy muttered, but did indeed grab the book bound in red leather, and started to thumb through it. She paused when she found a map. “What is this place called again?”

Tony was still looking at the Stark family tree. “Winterfell. Not very creative for a castle in a snow, to be honest.”

It took her a moment to find the place, but there it was indeed. Wow, they were really way up north of this place called Westeros. There were a lot of different … well, kingdoms maybe? There were only names and no titles, so she could just assume by the sigils that it had to be kingdoms or at least counties or something like that. There was no indication of a scale on that map, but finding the others might get a bit tedious. And then there was to consider that this was only one of the continents. There was also Essos and some isles and …

  
“Gotcha’!” Darcy exclaimed happily. “I think I have a feeling I know where Thor is.”

That made Tony’s head snap up. “What? Why?” He was out of his chair and on her side of the table in a moment, looking over her shoulder.

Darcy tipped her index finger against the small continent in the centre of the map, between Essos and Westeros. Maybe not continent, but a rather big isle? At any rate, the word written across it said ‘Asgard’, and the sigil next to it was a tree that Darcy would bet was called ‘Yggdrasil’.

She looked up at Tony pointedly. “Tell me again how science can create a whole continent in a medieaval kind of world when we’re back home, _daddy dearest_.”

Tony snapped a finger against her ear. “Brat.” But he didn’t sound very put off. “Well, that’s one down. And since the both of us are stuck in this together, everyone is probably still with the people they were with when the spirit got all Marty McFly on our ass. I bet where Thor is Foster is too.”

Darcy nodded. “And Bruce? He was with them in the labs, remember. Thor brought some science stuff from Asgard.”

“Oh, right. Forgot about that. Or chose to forget, because I was un-invited.” Tony nodded, then he scratched his chin. “Maybe we should try and compile a list of who was with whom.”

Darcy put her elbows on the table, and patted her hands against her cheeks, and she tried to mentally recreate what had happened … well, this morning. “I’m pretty sure that Sam, Steve and Pietro and in the gym at one point. They always do that on Thursday mornings.”

An amused snort escaped Tony. “Riiight. Which is why you always hang around _by coincidence_ around the same time in the community kitchen when they leave – all sweaty and shirtless – to get something to drink.”

Oh, he wanted to play that game? Two could play that game. “And you were in the kitchen again because of what? Oh right! Because Wanda, Pepper and Nat lock you out of your own apartment when they do yoga together _so you don’t ogle them_.”

“Touché, kid,” Stark replied. “Which means that those three are also together, if our theory is right. Who does that leave?”

Counting down on her fingers, Darcy tried her darnest to remember anyone who had been around in the tower. “Barnes and Clint were having a Mario Kart show down, weren’t they?  But I’m quite sure that Scott and Hope were not around.”

Tony held up his own fingers, and did his counting. “Vision is with the Bug’s-Life-gang at their own lair, and Hill had requested a day off for her sisters wedding.” He stared at the fingers he was holding up. “So that means all in all we have eleven people to collect.”

“Across three continents and a couple of isles,” Darcy added, helpfully.

“Sounds doable.” Stark shrugged, then he paused, and frowned a bit. “Well, that is if any of the others are important enough to be in a family tree that we have access to. Scoot, kid,” he said and pushed Darcy aside a bit, grabbing the book from her and started to thumb through it.

Unwilling to waste her breath Darcy decided to let him, and instead pulled over the book he had been reading in, to study the – their ? – family tree. Might be helpful to know whom they could run into here.

“Your cousin has a lot of kids,” she muttered. Robb, Sansa, Arya, Brandon Rickon and … oh, another bastard. And according to the family tree, he also had a brother named Benjen. Who had zero kids, and who also had a … bird painted next to him? What was it with these people and the birds?

Before Stark could comment on it, there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Tony replied automatically. It was the servant that had also brought Darcy here.  
“Lord Stark, your brother has returned from the judging and requests your presence in the Great Hall.”

Tony nodded. “Tell him I… shall attend to him shortly.”

With a nod, the girl pulled the door close again, and Darcy couldn’t hold back a low whistle. “Nice language there.”

Standing up, tony smoothed out some imaginary wrinkles in his coat. “Yeah well. Rhodey and I joined a Dungeons and Dragons group in college, for a laugh. And stuck around.”

“Good for us,” Darcy said, still grinning, as she got up. Then she grabbed hold of Tony’s arm. “Now lead the way, daddy-o. Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from: Family by Catey Shaw
> 
> If you’re wondering, this is indeed the morning of the first chapter of the first book or the first episode of season 1. Where Eddard kills the crow-dude.
> 
> And if you’re wondering about the other people: Nat, Pepper and Wanda are with house Tully right now; Jane, Bruce and Thor are indeed in Asgard (but not for long). Sam, Steve and Pietro are part of the kingsguard (and on their way to winterfell with the king); Barnes and Clint are with a mercenary force that is currently employed by Renley.
> 
> And thirdly, if you are wondering about that spirit - no idea. I just needed someone to bring them there.


	12. Hell I feel (AmericanHorrorStory:Murderhouse!Crossover)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 of the Darcy Lewis Crossover Bingo. Number 25 was AHS and i picked Murderhouse.  
> This is a fusion of the first season and the MCU. Warning for swearing, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of adultery, mentions of suicide and mentions of murder. The typical AHS stuff.

**(Cannot stand this) Hell I Feel**

* * *

 

‘Who are the people in the kitchen?’ Happy had asked as he had carried in the last of the boxes to her room. Darcy, lying on her bed and creating a new playlist on her iPod to fit her current mood of ‘ _I hate everything and especially this house_ ’ didn’t even bother to look up at her dad’s security detail.

‘How would I know.’ She just shot back at him.

Her sister chose this moment to come into Darcy’s room, leaning in the doorway in all her flannel glory. ‘Of course you know. It’s the Odinsons from across the street.’ She ripped open one of the boxes. ‘They said they’d come over with a cake. Mum wants us both down to greet them’.

In reply, Darcy groaned. ‘Fantastic.’ One more reason to hate this new house. Nosy neighbors.

Happy had chuckled, good naturedly. ‘Being sixteen is hard, huh.’

Darcy had wordlessly stuck out her tongue at him.

 

* * *

‘Loki keeps looking at you,’ Thor had said, one day. It had been relatively out of the blue, because Thor seemed to prefer to avoid talking about his brother. And usually, when he came over, he went straight to Jane’s room. If her parents knew what he and Jane where up to in her bedroom they certainly wouldn’t be so favorable towards their neighbor anymore. And they only knew each other for, what, two weeks?

‘What’s with the tone? You say that like I’m not worth looking at,’ Darcy had shot back at him, a little humerous. She was used to being stared at. Puberty had hit her much earlier than her older sister. But she had to admit that the way Loki kept glancing at her didn’t seem to be about her boobs.

‘It’s… he normally, doesn’t. Look at girls.’ Thor had said. For a moment it had seemed like he wanted to add something, but instead shook his head and continued his way upstairs to Jane’s room.

‘Why, is he gay?’ Darcy couldn’t help but call out after Thor. It was actually something she had wondered, when she had met Loki. He was handsome as the devil, one might say. But he had not once stared at her boobs. She was not used to that anymore.

Thor paused, on the stairs, and turned to look at her. ‘No, it’s just…. There was one girl he liked, Sif, but she rejected him and eversince… he just doesn’t care.’ Thor shrugged. He looked ashamed. Was he ashamed for his own brother? For not being a social butterfly?

Darcy rolled her eyes. ‘Why do you _care_ , then? Let him look all he wants, and we’ll see what happens when he actually talks.’ She continued her way down, and was surprised that when she turned round the corner and ran straight into Loki’s chest.

‘Talking ‘bout the devil’, she couldn’t help but say, as she took a step back. What was he doing in their house, even?

Loki …. Loki smiled at her. It was the first time she could say she ever saw him smile at all.

‘Hi.’

 

* * *

‘You like him, don’t you?’ Bruce had said. As a psychiatrist he probably should notice these things. Darcy shrugged. Bruce lived with them because he had just left his wife. Bruce said it was because lately, he didn’t know himself anymore, and it was better for both of them. Her father said it was because Bruce had anger management issues. So that should be the relationship he ought to figure out, not hers.

And it wasn’t like she was head over heels, or something. Loki was just… chill. He paid attention to her. She was consntantly showing him music and movies, and he read from his favourite books to her. And both of them occasionally complained about their families.

Darcy told him about growing up in Jane’s shawod. The smart one talking science with their Dad, who was almost never around. Not to mention the fact that they had only moved here because Tony hadn’t been able to keep it in his pants and had slept with a journalist. And now everyone was doing the not-talking-about it thing and it just made her so… angry.

“You know you can talk with me, about that. Right?” Bruce had tried. For a moment Darcy might have been tempted. She knew Bruce for all her life, he was … a good guy, mostly. But she had also known Betty her whole life.

“Like you and your wife talk? About how you _don’t_ like her anymore, because you love my mother? Gee, thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

Bruce didn’t come after her.  Darcy almost regretted her words.

 

* * *

‘That boy is no good,’ their neighbor had said. That weird man Barton, with the half-burned-off face. He was on his way out, though the backdoor in the kitchen, after one of his therapy sessions with Bruce. ‘He’s nice to you, isn’t he. But he used to play with Cooper, when we lived here. He was nice to him too, in the beginning. But that boy, he has issues.’

Usually, Darcy wasn’t someone to judge, but she had read Barton’s file. The man was seriously mental. He had had dreams of killing his wife and his kids in cold blood. Shooting them with arrows, apparently. One day he had woken up in the middle of the night, standing in his kids bedroom. That was when he had burned himself, because he had been sure he’d have killed them otherwise.

‘Thanks for the advice’, she had said, her words dripping in sarcasm. ‘Seeing that you’re here to meet a psychiatrist, you’re probably an expert on issues, aren’t you.’ She turned her back to him to pour herself a coffee. When she turned back around, Barton was still standing there, staring at her.

‘Yes. I know about issues. And his are worse than mine, kiddo. You should ask his brother about the last girl he liked,’ he had said, all vague and menacing. And then slammed the door shut behind him.

 

* * *

‘I don’t like how he looks at you,’ her father had said. Apparently, he had seen her and Loki in the garden, from where she had just tried to sneak in quietly. They were often under the big willow tree, him reading out poetry to her. Today it had been “May I feel”, by e. e. comings. He had not even touched her, for fucks sake, but she felt… hot. How could a voice make her feel this way?

‘Yeah, well. I happen to like it,’ Darcy retorted, and went over to the fridge. She wanted to ignore her father, but couldn’t when she heard the ice cubes clink in his glass. She glanced over at him, and… felt herself go rigid. Whiskey. Since when was he drinking again? Should she… fetch Bruce?

‘Girls get pregnant when guys look at them like that.’ And then, a weak laugh followed. ‘Even if the guys had a vasectomy fifteen years ago.’

Wait. This was no longer about her and Loki.

After one moment of feeling helpless, armed herself with a pack of chocolate ice cream, went over to the kitchen isle where she placed it between herself and her dad and got out two spoons. One she handed to her dad.

‘So…. Mum is pregnant?’ Darcy eyed the more than half empty bottle on the counter. She wondered for how long he had been sitting here. Was nobody else at home?

Where was Jane? Oh, well, that she knew. Jane was always with Thor these days. But Pepper? Bruce? Happy? Hell, even the help, Natalia, might have been able to stop him from drinking. She took a spoon of the ice cream.

‘Yes. Ten weeks already. Must have happened just after we moved here,’ He dug into the ice cream really deep. ‘And you know what’s funny? We only did it once back then. Your mother truly is a wonder. Even in bed, she’s effective.’

His speech was a bit slurred, but Darcy could hear the pain in his voice. Up till now, Darcy had always assumed that she was the only one who had noticed that Bruce was maybe harboring feelings for her mum. But the way Tony behaved…

‘Or I have bad karma. Fuck my wife and get her pregnant, fuck a journalist and get her pregnant. And I never wanted any kids at all.’

Darcy heard the clatter, as the spoon dropped out of her hand.

Tony apparently didn’t hear it. He was still digging into the ice cream. ‘So, if you’re fucking that boy, better use double protection. IF you have half of my genes, you’re fertile as fuck.’

 

* * *

‘He will make you cry,’ Natalia the housemaid had said to her. She had come in to clean Bruce’s office, just as Loki and Darcy were making out on the couch. It was a big, black leather couch and somehow it had seemed tempting. Dad wasn’t at home, mum was at the neighbour’s place and Bruce was apparently doing a house call, so….

The moment Natalia had come in, Loki had pulled up his pants and bolted, and Natalia had started cleaning like nothing happened. Well, until she had started talking, at least, just after Darcy was finished putting her dress back on.

‘Excuse me?’

Natalia stopped her cleaning. She looked at Darcy, almost judgingly. And then, slowly, she spoke. ‘That boy. There is too darkness in him. He will pull you down if you don’t get away fast. He will not mean to, but it will not stop him from doing it.’

Darcy pulled her stockings back up, and forced herself to breath calmly. She grabbed her bra from the floor, and after counting down to ten, she righted herself. ‘I can’t remember that I asked your for advice. That was out of place. I’m sure you did not mean to, but apparently it didn’t stop you.’

Natalia did not seem fathomed. The woman had a face that betrayed nothing. ‘I am serving your family, and I would be doing you a disservice if I were to see what is happening and not warn you.’

‘ _Warn_ me?’ Darcy said. Her control  slipping. She made a step towards Darcy. ‘Of him? Of him making me cry? Like you made my mother cry when you told her about that pregnant journalist? Did you also have to warn _her_?’

If the woman was surprised that Darcy knew of that scene she didn’t let it show. She had the galls to simply nod. ‘Yes. Your mother is a good woman and deserves to know the truth.’

Darcy balled her fist so hard that her fingernails dug into the skin of her palms, but it was all that stopped her from punching Natalia in the throat. ‘Yes, but it wasn’t your place to tell, you bitch. You’re not part of this family, okay?’ She made a step towards Natalia. Natlia didn’t even blink. ‘I don’t know what made you think you were. Even if you fuck Bruce’s brain away, that doesn’t make you part of this family. We both know whom he’s think of when he’s fucking you, okay? So stay out of our business.’

Darcy turned on her heels, and froze when she saw Bruce standing in the doorway, in his coat. He stared back at her. It was all a matter of fighting or fleeing now. Darcy chose to do both. ‘What? It’s true, isn’t it.’ She spat out, and stormed past him, Bra in her hand.

 

* * *

‘I will protect you’, he had whispered in her ear, as she had laid in his arms, crying. And she had believed him. When all of her family was falling apart – when she was falling apart – she had still believed him. How could she have been so wrong?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from: Fade to Black, by Metallica.  
> So, for the record, the stories are not all perfect replicates of the backstories of AHS:Murderhouse.
> 
> Pepper is kinda filling the place of Vivienne Harmon.
> 
> Tony and Bruce both fill the role of Ben Harmon.
> 
> Christine Everhard is maybe/possibly a version of Hayden.
> 
> Darcy is more or less Violet Harmon and Jane is added for the heck of it.
> 
> Loki is more or less Tate Langdon, put I forgoe the whole Rubberman thing. Also, Thor is actually not a ghost, he is his own person this.
> 
> Clint is loose based on Larry ‘Burned Man’ Harvey, and Natasha is more or less the role of Moira O’Hara.
> 
> What I didn’t have the space to show is that Pietro and Wanda are the mad twins that live in the basement – and Frigga is a much much much kinder version of Mrs. Langdon.
> 
> Also, something i forgott to mention on tumblr, but I honestly consider Steve and Bucky for the gay couple that lived in the house even before Clint.


	13. Fairytales can come true (Labyrinth!Crossover)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 10 of the Darcy Lewis Crossover Bingo. Which is the glory that is Labyrinth; the 80s David Bowie film that everybody should have seen at least once in their life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just fucking love Labyrinth, okay? Okay. Need to know? There is a hot Goblin King, played by David Bowie, and he takes kids away if they’re wished away with just the right words. In the movie a girl Sarah wishes away her baby half-brother Toby, and has 13 hours to gain him back from Jarreth, the Goblin King, before her brother is forever lost/a goblin. (But honestly, you should have just seen it)

**Fairytales can come true (it can happen to you)**

* * *

 

“Well, this is awkward,” Darcy said very slowly. She stared at her…. At the guy she had been going out with for two years, who had just proposed to her and then immediately lost the right to call himself her boyfriend by breaking off one of the most ridiculous fights with her. And who had managed to become even more ridiculous in a matter of very very few words.

She knew she had a thing for nerds, and always picked them, blindly, out of a crowd. Toby was no exception to the rule. But this was certainly new. A new level of nerdness. Had he just … wished for the ‘Goblin King to take her away’?

Toby rubbed his hands over his face with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry. Sarah and I used to threaten each other with this when we were pissed off. I don’t even know where it came from, it’s a childhood thing.” He looked at her, embarrassed at his own outburst, but also still visibvly annoyed with her. “You just drive me mad in the way only Sarah used to do.”

In a very twisted way, Darcy knew was this one pof the greatest compliments he could make her. Sarah was the most important person in his life, up until she jus disappeared a couple of years ago. The police had rested the case, and she was assumed dead. Which made this a really weird sort of compliment, actually. But all things with Toby were that way. If he weren’t so terribly sweet, most of the time, she would never have agreed to marry him.

“Well, well, well. Look at who we have here,” someone spoke up behind Darcy. 

She yelped in surprise. “What the …. ,“ When shen turned around, the indignant ‘what the fuck are you doing in our home and how did you get in?!’ got stuck somewhere in her throat. She started sputtering.

Darcy wondered if she was dreaming all of this. It certainly was ‘out-there’ enough. Because the guy behind her certainly looked like he wasn’t real. He had the most ridiculous eighties-hair – with blue, glittery streaks, what was her brain even doing dreaming something like that up – and the most outrageously tight …. tights. Top that with a black leather-vest and a cape that was glittering in all shades of nightly blue and you had to have the weirdest 80s-fantasy-wizard. 

Also, there was the fact that for a moment the guy looked eerily like David Bowie. When she blinked it was gone, when she blinked again it was there. She couldn’t decide if he looked a lot like Bowie or not at all, but at any rate, it sold her on the idea that this might be just a very random dream.

“You…!” Darcy hard Toby say, with a mixture of awe and disbelieve. And horror. She glanced at her boyfriend. Yep, there was definitely horror in his voice, even if he pulled it off to look mostly like a confused puppy. Was he always this puppy like or was that just something that her mind had added to the mix? “But…. I….”

“You what?” The David Bowie Clone said, bemusdedly. “You are a very naughty boy, who has learned nothing from his sister’s errors? You have the strangest ideas of how to impress you fiancé?”

“I dreamed you,” Toby finally found his tongue again. He sounded beautifully indignant, and the ridiculousness of the situation made Darcy laugh.

“And here I was worried for a moment that this was all a fabrication of my mind. But if it’s you who dreamed this specimen up, I guess I’m relieved. No offense,” the last bit she directed towards Mr. Hair Explosion. 

He grinned, and made a wide gesture with his arm and gracefully dipped into half a bow. “None taken. I should share the sentiment, I think. Alas,” and then he leaned against the doorframe in the most lascivious manner, “none of you can claim the honor of dreaming me up, and it certainly isn’t your dreams that I wish to partake in. I have found the lady to command my dreams, and to whose dreams I am enslaved, already.”

The look he bestowed on Toby at these words was strange. It seemed … fond. If he hadn’t said Lady at the part, Darcy would have sworn that his words were meant for Toby in that moment. But maybe she had misread his expression, for his words as he spoke on carried a bit of a sneer. “And if I treated my queen in any way like you treat your dearest Darcy here, lad, she would have my head for it. And I image you shouldn’t like it much either.”

Toby had remained rigid like a pillar of salt next to Darcy after his outburst, eyes wide open and mouth agape. Not his most flattering facial expression. For a moment it seemed that the glittery dude was waiting for something, but then he shook his head in an almost pitiful manner, and shrugged. 

He crossed his arms over his chest, moved with a step away from the door, and opened his arms wide. Probably to show of that glittery cape of his. “Well, then. Enough reminiscenting here. Need I explain the rules again, lad?”

Toby shook his head vehemently. “No. You cannot be _him_. You cannot.”

For a dream that she had, she was a remarkable uninformed and peripheral figure in it, Darcy mused. She had no idea what was happening here. “Good question. Who _is_ he?”

Blue Streaks Bowie laughed loudly, his head thrown back. It was undeniably dramatic, but it fit right in with the drama of his whole get-up. “I, my dear, am your new sovereign. I am the Goblin King. Or as others might call me, Jareth. And your lover here has wished you away, and delivered his claim unto you to me, so you are mine now.” 

He bowed. Darcy curtsied, with a snort. This was bizarre. More bizarre than gods falling from the sky. … Wait a second….

“No,” Toby repeated, more fiercly. “this can’t be true. Sarah told me the story. And you never came, when she or I said the phrase. This is wrong.”

Why did Toby seem to take his alleged dream so serious? It was a bit alarming. She had seen weirder stuff than a Goblin King that you could wish people too, right? Hadn’t she had her fair share of magic? 

There was a glistening in ‘the Goblin King’s’ eyes. “Because your _dear_ sister had declared herself above my powers, after she won you back from me. I am sure that she told you of this part of our tale. I could not take you from her again, nor you from her. But this time, you did not wish _her_ away, did you now? And you have a claim to the woman. It is a fresh claim, and I would congratulate you, had you not relinquished this claim so hastily. By the law of the fae, she is yours to give. And you have given.” 

Suddenly, the whole ridiculous getup had lost its charm.

Holy shit. What? Toby’s sister had wished him away? This was not a dream, or something like that? This was not a dream. Fae. Darcy knew a bit of mythology. The fae were part of the celtic lore. And if Thor could be real, why not them?

She turned to Toby. Her pretty boy, her puppy. His wide eyes looked so miserable, crestfallen. Like his worst nightmare had become true. Feeling her eyes on him, he looked at her. “It’s a tale. All this time, I believed this to be a fairytale my sister made up.” There was a begging to his words. Praying her to believe him, that this had not been his intention.

“What the fuck,” Darcy said, lamely. She believed him, she truely did. Because who could possibly believe such a story? But… why always her? Why was she always involved when the weird fantasy creatures decided to pay a visit to the regular world? Gods, Elves and now Goblins. Three years of peace and quiet were a break that had lasted just a little too long, apparently.

“A tale most true. And now the fun part of the tale begins. You have thirteen hours to win her back, if you so wish. But if you are anything like your sister I take it you will not simply leave her to me?” The Goblin King seemed to have changed from amused to almost bored now. He was playing with two balls of glass, letting them flow from one hand to the other, across his fingers and right back in his palms. Where had _those_ come from? It didn’t seem like there was any space left for pockets in those ridiculous pants.

“Never,” Toby declared, spitting the word out. 

The Goblin King threw one of the glass balls up in the air and caught it effortlessly again. A grin spread across his face, and only now did Darcy notice that his teeth were weirdly pointy. It gave his grin something feral, something dangerous. “ _Very well_. Sarah shall be ever so pleased.”

And then he threw both of the glass balls; one at Toby and one at her. Out of reflex, Darcy caught hers – but where glass had been before, it seemed that now her fingers were dipping right through a soap bubble. And with a blink, the room around her vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titel taken from: Young At Heart by Frank Sinatra
> 
> Yes. It is implied that a while after the movie happened, Sarah willingly returned to Jareth, as his queen. So yes, Sarah and Darcy shall meet.
> 
> And the queen of the labyrinth will most gleefully point out to Darcy that she can also just rescue herself. There’s nothing forbidding her from running the labyrinth herself. Just in case toby is not up to the task.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompts was by [Shorthairedme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shorthairedme)[(tumblr)](http://shorthairedme.tumblr.com/) on [my tumblr](neverending-shenanigans.tumblr.com):  
> „Hehe since you are asking for prompts... "Darcy walks in on Loki in the bathroom with only a towel around his waist. Toxic by Britney Spears starts playing in the background." Enjoyyyy! Omg I can't wait.“
> 
> Thanks, dear :) I hope it turned out a bit like what you were hoping for. It proved a challenge to incorporate the song properly. I like challenges, though. Also, I wasn’t in a state of mind for smut. I hope you’re not too disappointed at how chaste this was.
> 
> Oh, yeah, disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I don't own the music or it's lyrics, I don't own Marvel or Britney Spears. Basically, I don't own anything and the onlything I gain is fun. 
> 
> For those of you need a reminder of how glorious this song it's video are, [have a link to dailymotion](http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2bfil_britney-spears-toxic_music).


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